


You Aren't Wanted

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Incandescent Hearts [21]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Alien Planet, Aquinas, Bickering, Camping, Cautious Spock, Cave, Concern, Cuddling, Developing Relationship, Friendship, Hurt Spock, Implied/Referenced Sex, Isolation, Lichens, M/M, McCoy The Farmer, Mutual Concern, Native Animals, Paradise, Protective Spock, Self Preservation, Self-Centered McCoy, Shore Leave, Shuttle Aquinas, Sleeping In Each Other's Arms, Solar Blankets, Stranded on Planet, native plants, protective McCoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: McCoy is so consumed by personal problems that he does not realize how vicious he has been to Spock until they are stranded on an alien planet by themselves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [V.S.A.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562550) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 
  * Inspired by [Haematolagnia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057388) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 
  * Inspired by [Can't Sleep Without...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9877529) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 



> Ever since Esperata posted "V.S.A.", I have wanted to write a fic about Spock and McCoy isolated on an alien planet and coping with an unfamiliar environment as they try to live off the land. I knew that my McCoy was so wrapped up in himself that he was not very open to anyone except Jim Kirk. McCoy certainly wasn't friendly with a cautious Spock who did not know how to deal with him. I was in the midst of writing "You're Not Wanted" when Esperata began posting "Haematolagnia," and I discovered that my McCoy began taking on some of the harsh, unsavory characteristics of Mirror McCoy as portrayed in the first two chapters of "Haematolagnia." My Kirk was even a little like Mirror Kirk from "Haematolagnia." So thanks, once again, are headed Esperata's way for inspiring me and always for wonderful support.  
> The inspiration from "Can't Sleep Without..." will become obvious in later chapters.

“What are you doing here, Vulcan? Besides looking like a displaced doorman whose hotel has disappeared behind him.” Leonard McCoy laughed at his own joke for the benefit of the people at the table with him, but his eyes held no humor in them.

McCoy had looked up just a moment ago from the laughing, fun-loving new friends he’d made in this noisy bar to find the First Officer of the Enterprise looking down at him in a very disapproving way. McCoy liked the noise and the laughter around him. It helped him to forget, if only for a little while, his overwhelming personal problems. And then this, this, character from out of his real life had shown up to ruin the soothing illusion. 

“Spock, did anyone ever tell you that you would’ve made a very good raven for Edgar Allan Poe? Or a judge at the Salem Witch Trials? None of them had a sense of humor, either, or approved of anyone who did.” McCoy had a thousand of these acid-filled barbs, and the Vulcan was standing still for once and not seeming to want to stop McCoy’s barrage. 

“It is time you came back to the Enterprise, Doctor. The hour is late.”

Even the damn voice was bored and condescending, as if it was taking great effort to be bothered by McCoy’s stupid activities. But somebody had to make certain that the crazy bastard didn’t piss his pants in public or do something else equally horrible to embarrass the Enterprise and especially its commanding officer, the Honorable Captain James T. Kirk, so Spock had grudgingly stepped forward. But Spock was going to make certain that everyone clearly understood how honored they should feel that he was making this tremendous sacrifice.

“Well, maybe I’m not ready to do that, Spock. Maybe I want to stay here with my new friends and have some more social time with them. What do you think about that?!”

“It is neither the time nor the place to be discussing issues such as these.”

“Don’t know why not! Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my friends.”

“I do not wish to argue, Doctor.”

“Then get lost! Go away! Leave me alone!”

“Doctor--”

“You aren’t wanted here! Got that?! You aren’t wanted! You aren‘t one of us. You never have been. You never will be. Just go back to where you came from and leave us Earthlings alone! I know that this Earthling is damn tired of your constant interfering!”

Something went over Spock’s face before he had a chance to snuff it out. “Very well. I will tell your friends that you are here.” Spock turned and left.

“Well, I thought he’d never leave!” McCoy said to the group around him, and the hangers-on laughed.

 

McCoy awoke and groaned. His head was killing him. Every time he woke up in this condition, he swore would be his last. But yet, here he was, with another hangover.

He had no recollection of how he’d gotten in his bed. There seemed to be a memory of Jim Kirk and Scotty, but he wasn’t certain. And before them, there had been Spock, that damn interfering alien! The guy must be part birddog, because he could always seem to be able to find McCoy, no matter where McCoy tried to hide.

He sat on the side of his bed and saw the coffee carafe sitting nearby. The drink of the gods, excluding alcohol, that is. He saw a covered container and figured he’d find croissants and fruit preserves under the cover. Yeah, and he was hungry, too, but he knew he had enough crow to eat to take care of his food allotment for days. How they put up with him here on the Enterprise, he didn’t know. But thank goodness, they did. Where would he go if he didn’t have the Enterprise? 

But still, he dared his credibility and position on the Starship by doing self-destructive things like drinking himself stupid and running his big mouth. He knew better. At some point, self-preservation should kick in, but he kept daring matters and flaunting his rebel ways. How long could he expect Jim Kirk to keep bailing him out? What would be Kirk’s saturation point?

 

“Well, Bones, are you back among the land of the living?”

“Yeah, Jim, I must’ve really tied one on. My head feels twice its size.”

“And you took medicine?”

“Medicine can only go so far. Thanks for hauling me back.” 

“You’re too valuable to lose by the wayside. I’ll haul you back as many times as it takes.”

“Thanks.” He turned. “And there’s our man Spock! Just as warm and personable as ever! How’s everything in your perfect world, alien?! How’s the world treating you, or are you treating the world with your presence?!”

Spock’s eyebrow went up a notch, but he did not answer.

“Bones. Watch it.”

McCoy turned back to Kirk. “Spock labors under no illusions, Jim! He knows what he really is to us: an oddity.”

“Bones. I don’t know what your problem is. Mr. Spock is a valued member of this crew, too. He needs to be treated with respect.”

“Aw, he wouldn’t know what to do with that, Jim. He doesn’t mind it when we tease him.”

“Does he look like he’s enjoying your remarks right now?”

“He knows how to hold it in. He‘s heard that if you frown or smile, it causes wrinkles. That‘s why he‘s going to have a face as smooth as a baby‘s butt when he‘s a hundred. He almost frowned two years ago, and it scared the hell out of him. He hasn‘t gotten over it yet.”

“Maybe you need to rest some more, Dr. McCoy.”

Kirk’s use of his title made McCoy turn his head. He saw the intolerance on Kirk’s face where once there had been amusement and warmth only moments before. “Sorry, Jim.”

“I think you should say that to Mr. Spock.”

McCoy frowned. Jim was serious. What the hell?! Jim wanted him to apologize?! To the alien?!

“That is unnecessary, Captain,” Spock interceded. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me?” Spock turned and left.

“What in the hell is wrong with you, Bones?! Now Spock is covering for you.”

“I didn’t ask him to do that!” McCoy snorted.

“I’ve never known you to be prejudiced, so it isn‘t that. What about Spock bothers you?”

“Maybe it’s because he’s so damn perfect!” McCoy blurted before he thought. 

“I’m sure that Spock would disagree with that assessment. He knows that he‘s far from perfect.”

“Then why does he act like it?! Have you ever seen anyone else who acts the way he does?! Like he had the world by the ass ?!”

“Yes, I have,” Kirk answered softly. “Me.”

“Well, you’ve got a reason,” McCoy said, trying to backtrack. “You do have the world by the ass. The whole universe, in fact.”

“That’s one man’s opinion,” Kirk tried to say modestly. 

“That’s more than one man’s opinion,” McCoy argued. “And most women‘s.”

“Well, I, ah, do what I can,” Kirk said with the shy smile that got him most anything he wanted. “Especially with the ladies.”

“You should have your own planet.”

“What for, Bones?” Kirk was beginning to like this bullshitting party. 

“To have enough room to raise all of the children you must be breeding.”

“Sadly, I won’t know most of my children. A lot of other guys are going to be raising them as their own.”

“Breed them and leave them. Sounds like a win-win proposition to me.”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I can’t even seem to be there to help raise one little girl of my own.”

“Some guys are better cut out for it than others.” He studied his friend. “I think that you’re in line for some shore time.”

“Not really for awhile, Jim.”

“It’s been longer than you think. Go see Joanna. She‘s getting older everyday,” Kirk said softly. “Do it for the helluva it, if nothing else. Do it for us guys who will never get to know that we even have kids.”

“I don’t know, Jim--”

“You need a change of pace. I believe that Mr. Spock does, too. He needs to see his people again.”

McCoy smirked. “He would ask for something like that? To see his people again?”

“He didn’t. But that’s not what I said. I said that he needs to see his people again. Like you, he doesn’t realize it. You both need to cultivate your roots and keep them healthy so that you can go on with your lives. You can’t turn your back on what you are.”

“Aren’t you the poetic one?!” McCoy challenged. “Where did you get your degree in psychology?!”

“The same place you did, Bones,” Kirk answered softly. “But it didn’t come from any educational institution. It’s from living life and treating your fellow man kindly. It’s just decency, Bones. I think that you need to find some of that back. Today you were attacking Spock just because he‘s different, or you don‘t understand him, or who knows why. But where will you go from there? Women? Asians? Anyone who‘s different from you?”

McCoy looked disgusted with himself. “I don’t know where I got so jaded. I‘m a doctor, damn it! I‘m supposed to nurture life, not abuse it!”

“You’ve been beaten up quite a lot by Life, Bones. You’ve bent some under the test and you’ve turned to drinking because of it. It’s given you a sharp tongue.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ve got a reason.”

“That’s what I’m saying. All of the trouble you’ve been through has made you self-centered and consumed by yourself. And bitter. And you’ve been focusing that bitterness on Spock.” Kirk saw McCoy do an eye roll, but he kept on talking. “Maybe you don’t even realize that you’re doing it, but you’ve really been vicious to him.”

“Vicious?! He must like it, because he sure as hell seems to be there every time I turn around.”

“He thinks you need his help, Bones. He feels sorry for you.”

“Him?! Feeling sorry for me?! With all of his crazy, mixed up problems?!”

“That’s right. Crazy, isn’t it? Look. You’re right. He does have a lot of problems. After all, he is an alien to us. Can you imagine what that must feel like? To know that you’re so different from everyone else? Spock isn’t standoffish because he’s judgmental and perfect, Bones. He’s being cautious. You would, too, if you were in similar circumstances. He’s trying to be helpful to us, but he has a lot of personal feelings that he’s coping with. He’s a half-breed, so he feels inferior to both sides of his heritage.”

McCoy frowned. “He has no reason to be thinking that way.”

“See? You understand that much about him! That’s why there’s hope for you yet.“

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.“

“Life’s been rough, but it hasn’t broken you. Not yet. And I don’t want it to. That’s why I think you need some time away from everything. So does Spock, but for different reasons.”

McCoy snorted. “What good would it be for a machine to try to relate to someone?! I don’t know how his parents can take his behavior, especially his mother.”

“Mr. Spock wasn’t born that way, Bones. He knew so much prejudice from the Vulcans for being a half-breed. His upbringing has molded him into the person we know. He came to Star Fleet, determined to excel. He was finally being judged on what he could do, instead of what he was. He thinks that he has to be perfect, or he will shatter from the effort. I think he also does not want to disappoint me. And all I really want is for him to be happy and adjusted.”

“You’ve taken on quite a bit to be his friend.”

“I believe that he’d like to be your friend, too.”

“I don’t know how you got that idea!” McCoy snorted.

“You know, if you both could just sit down and talk things out, you might learn to understand each other.”

“That isn’t about to happen! Have you ever seen him pal up with anyone? Just for the helluva it? That isn’t really his thing.”

“I know. But he’s loyal and trustworthy and tenacious.”

“So is a bulldog,” McCoy said stubbornly.

“He worries about you, Bones. We both do.”

“I must be in one helluva shape if that poor bastard worries about me,” McCoy muttered.

“He sees how self-destructive you are to yourself.”

“I appreciate your concern, both of you, but I can take care of it.”

“No, you can’t, Bones. At least, you aren’t.”

“Alright, so I’m not,” McCoy conceded. "So, sue me."

“That’s why you’re going on shore leave. It might help you to get a new perspective.” Kirk got a hard glint in his eyes, his commander look. “I‘m not asking, Doctor. I‘m telling. Get yourself straightened out, so you can go on to the next stage of the process.“

“And that is?“

“Making peace with Mr. Spock.”

McCoy huffed, but held his tongue.

“I don‘t want to lose either one of you, and you‘re going to learn to not only get along with each other, but be friends.” He held up his hand to silence McCoy. “I need you both as my chief officers, crucial advisers, and personal friends. I‘m not doing without, so pack your bags, Dr. McCoy. You‘re going on shore leave. And you're going to come back with a smile on your face and your sweet cheeks in a chair and ready to make all kinds of concessions to keep me happy. Or you and the Vulcan will become roommates in the darkest cell in the brig. It will be in such an obscure corner that sunlight will have to be piped in for you. You'll forget what starlight or other people look like. Your cell will be so small that a ballroom will be a distant memory.”

"We've done nothing wrong."

"Outside of driving me crazy? Oh, I'd find some infraction, you can depend on that. I can get very creative."

McCoy looked at his commanding officer. He knew that Kirk couldn't really carry out his threats, but he could make life miserable for himself and Spock. Kirk looked awfully adamant. There was only one thing left to do.

“Yes, Sir,” McCoy answered. “I’ll make travel arrangements.”

Kirk relaxed and grinned. “Good. I knew you’d see things my way, Bones. And, oh, yeah. Have fun!”

 

Earth had a hard light to it, much as tree leaves look on a hot summer afternoon. The whole damn planet had the same feel to it, too, as if it was in a vacuum. Maybe it really wasn’t that way, but that’s the way it looked and felt to Leonard McCoy as he arrived home on shore leave. McCoy couldn‘t get his eyes to adjust to the light. But then he realized it was because he was used to the soft starlight of space. Earth was foreign to him, and space was natural. What in the hell was the world coming to?! McCoy had to get used to his own home planet again. That fact, and the fact that Jim Kirk had been right about a need for shore leave sobered McCoy more than any evangelist after the redemption of his soul could have done. 

Of course, Joanna wasn’t at home. She was in summer camp, somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains where she was learning Native American lore, crafts, heritage, and life styles. It had been a wonderful opportunity for their daughter, Jocelyn explained to McCoy carefully as if he was a simpleton who didn‘t understand about privilege and advantage. He got the hidden message that Joanna was attending this camp with daughters of upper-crust society people, and she didn‘t need to have her stumble-bum of a father around to mess up her chances. He also understood that the exposure to the upper-crust daughters was the real benefit of the summer camp, not learning and duplicating Native American lifestyles of six hundred years before. Hell, if Joanna stayed around her own mother long enough, she might turn into the same opportunist, social climbing prig that Jocelyn had seemed to become. 

McCoy tried to be kind in his thinking of Jocelyn. It couldn’t be easy for her to be the only biological parent around for Joanna. And any glance in a mirror would show Jocelyn that her own life was slipping away. That surely hadn’t been in any scenario that Jocelyn had envisioned for herself when she was young and idealistic and full of dreams.

But McCoy wasn’t here to soothe Jocelyn’s feelings. He needed nurturing himself, but he realized that he wouldn’t be getting it with his ex-wife. Everything that came out of her mouth directed toward him came out as barbed. Not that he blamed her, but he just needed some understanding so badly.

For the rest of the month he bummed around the United States, sometimes not really realizing where he was, or why. For instance, why would he go to the Black Hills in South Dakota in summer during a drought? The Bad Lands were nearby, and the area deserved its name. McCoy stood in the doorway of a motel located in some town east of Rapid City and wondered if he could ever find a lonelier spot on Earth. And the answer came thundering back to him. Yes, he could. At the home of his ex-wife.

The Earth was no longer his home. Nothing felt right down there anymore. Where he belonged wasn’t even on solid ground, but flying around in some Starship somewhere out in space. And that sobered the hell out of Leonard McCoy, because he was no great lover of space. But like it or not, that was where his home was now located. And so was most of his family.

So, maybe he’d better be getting on home before they took the welcome mat off the doorstep.

That thought almost gave him peace.

Almost.


	2. Chapter 2

“Welcome aboard, Dr. McCoy,” the genial man said as he stepped forward in the transporter room of the USS Portus after McCoy had materialized.

“Captain Montrose,” McCoy said with a soft smile. “Nice of you to offer me a lift back to the Enterprise.”

Montrose returned the smile. “I understand that you’ve had quite a return trip from leave on Earth.”

“Yes,” McCoy answered as they left the transporter room. “I’m starting to feel like I’m a college student hitchhiking my way back to school in the fall. You‘re my third ‘hitch.’ I‘ve been bounced around like a space football and treated like a king. I really appreciate everything that‘s been done for me.”

“Well, any way that we can accommodate one of Jim Kirk’s officers will be my personal honor to facilitate. We already have another member of your team aboard who‘s hitchhiking, also.”

“Oh?” McCoy asked with interest, hoping it was Engineer Scott who had really been up for shore leave until Kirk placed McCoy and Spock ahead in the queue. McCoy thought that some time spent with Scotty drinking and with no responsibilities would be just the way to validate his shore leave. It might even ease and cushion some of his frustration from dealing with his ex-wife over their daughter and then his senseless meandering for the rest of his month on Earth.

“That‘s right, McCoy. I understand that he’s the Enterprise’s Science Officer. Commander Spock came aboard several days ago from an interplanetary conference.”

“Oh. Spock.” He hoped that his disappointment wasn’t too obvious, then he frowned. “An interplanetary conference? I thought that he was visiting his family.”

Montrose grinned. “I understand that he did, then learned of this conference that really interested him.”

So, Spock’s trip to see his people hadn’t been all that great, either, McCoy thought with an inner smirk. Apparently, the Vulcan was just spreading cheer wherever he could throughout the universe. Now even his own people couldn’t stand him.

“We haven’t seen much of him, though,” Montrose was continuing. “He seems to spend a lot of his time meditating. He explained that he was tired and wanted to rejuvenate himself. I hoped that maybe you could help him mix more with my officers, since you know him and all.”

Be Spock‘s social director?! When Spock would be mentally kicking and screaming at every sit-down meal and card party while acting like the Great Stone Face with body to match?! Fat chance! Staring in a corner for hours on end or having his fingernails pulled out slowly from their nail-beds sounded more exciting to McCoy than trying to get Spock to act decent. Kirk might like to shepherd the Vulcan around, but McCoy sure as hell didn’t. And he sure as hell wouldn’t do it, either. It would be better if Montrose thought that McCoy was boring, also, than be thrust in Spock’s company for days on end. If an hour with Spock bored McCoy, what in the hell would days in Spock’s presence be like?! That was one experience that Leonard McCoy adamantly planned to skip.

“Well, actually, Captain, I’m tired from my shore leave myself,” McCoy answered, trying to be diplomatic and knowing that diplomacy really wasn‘t his strongest asset. What he needed was a bullshitter like Kirk to plead his case. “My leave really wasn’t a vacation. I was taking care of personal business and visiting relatives.” 

Uncross your lying fingers now, McCoy. You know you were bored out of your mind. That’s what you’re really tired of doing. 

“What I’d really like to do is rest up from that before I hit my duties back on the Enterprise, Sir. I believe that I will be spending a lot of my time in my own quarters, if you don’t mind.” 

If you could, though, please send me willing women, naïve card players, and drinking buddies, and I’ll make your ship my permanent destination for all of my future shore leaves. I will be eternally grateful for any and all amenities, and I will personally do anything that I can for you. But, and I cannot stress this adamantly enough, BUT DO NOT ASK ME TO SOCIALIZE THE VULCAN that you so carelessly admitted into your midst! You got him, you deal with him. Don’t slough him off on me!

Montrose’s disappointment was obvious. He was taking it as a personal failure not to be entertaining Kirk’s officers. “Well, of course, Doctor, if that is what you prefer. However, I hope that you and Commander Spock will be able to dine with my fellow officers and myself.” He flashed a smile with a lot of teeth, and McCoy knew that not just anyone got that toothpaste smile from the man. 

Oh, hell, Montrose was running an old school ocean-going vessel with all of the trappings of officer privilege. Montrose was probably in the service more for the show than for the adventure. A desk job back at Federation Headquarters was probably waiting for him not too far down the road, and Montrose could settle into his real niche in life.

In private life, Montrose would have very political ties, and his wife would either be big in politics or the academic world. She would not be any mousey little thing who grew misshapen begonias on the windowsill. Her begonias would win national prizes, and she herself would be the president of the state garden club. She would have more drive than her husband who would still be flashing his toothpaste smile and glad-handing everyone as he worked the room. And the couple would be included in the best circles.

McCoy could not see any way out of his meals being social get-togethers. He couldn’t completely snub Kirk’s friend. If Kirk and Montrose weren’t friends, then they were probably both fellow bullshitters. McCoy recognized that quality in Kirk and figured that Kirk had a reputation to maintain along those lines with someone on the same level as he and Montrose were. Surely, meals spent with the officers of the Portus could pass reasonably unctuously. And surely, it wouldn’t take McCoy too long to get the slapdash, shit-eating smile off his face after the meals were over. His main problem would be getting his meals to digest after all of that fake camaraderie.

Another big plus that would really help is if Spock decided to be completely anti-social and boycotted meals altogether. McCoy figured that Spock would be utterly satisfied if he could occasionally gnaw on raw root vegetables and overcooked lentils and wash the whole mess down with some sort of bitter herbal tea that would put Panther Piss to shame.

And it worked pretty much the way McCoy figured. McCoy did get a lot of rest while on the Portus. And while the rest did him a lot of good, he spent a lot of time drinking alone when he should have been socializing and thinking finer thoughts. All of that would have elevated his general deportment and approach to his fellow creatures. As it was, he was getting grouchier by the day. And the grinning marathon he was treated to at mealtimes did not alleviate his attitude or perspective any. He looked like the only prune on a plateful of plump, ripe plums. At least his disposition didn‘t change the plums (Montrose and his officers) into prunes. McCoy figured that the only thing that could cause that much angst in the grinners would be imminent death or an epidemic of tooth decay.

One thing that did help was that he saw so little of Spock. They did not cross paths that often. Granted, there were several meals in which both of their attendance was required. Then they sat stiffly across the table from each other and acted as if they had never met instead of being fellow officers on the same Starship. Montrose was so stunned by their lack of acknowledgement of each other, let alone warmth between them, that he decided that any sort of endeavor to get them together would be a lost cause. Thank heaven for small graces! Spock and McCoy never knew how close they came to being the victims of a do-gooder. Maybe Montrose had a great deal of actual work to do to keep him busy and not meddling with Spock and McCoy’s lives. Whatever, Montrose did not encourage social intercourse between the two Enterprise officers. And that pleased both of those men very well.

 

But that lack of closeness between Spock and McCoy made Montrose nervous about sending the two together, alone, on a shuttle between the Portus and the Enterprise.

“Are you sure that you want me to send them to you that way, Jim? That‘s awfully close quarters for just the two of them.” 

“Sure, Steve.”

“I could send some other people along. I could even come over myself, and we could visit. Have a real chinwag and a formal dinner.”

“There’s nothing I’d like better, Steve.” Kirk grinned. “But you and I both know that a ‘visit’ would last at least a week, especially if you brought some of your cute yeomen along and I introduced you to some of the ladies on my crew. We’d all have a lot of fun, but that would take a week to celebrate and a week to recover. And that’s two weeks that neither one of us has to waste. Besides, you wouldn’t have anyway to get home. The Enterprise needs that shuttle to stay with us.”

Montrose grinned back. “You’re getting old, Kirk! I know of a time that you’d be the instigator of that plan.”

“You’re probably right,” Kirk returned with a chuckle. “But if you think that this is old behavior, I’ll let you in on the bad news. It’ll only get worse. One day, we’ll sit in our rocking chairs together and not even be able to remember the time we had this conversation.”

Montrose laughed. “Just so we remember why we liked having the pretty yeomen around.”

“I’ve got news for you, Steve. They tell me that even that goes away, too.”

“Ouch! You’re really the voice of reality today, Kirk! I don’t know if I want to send your officers back to all of that doom and gloom!”

“I’m just excited that they’re almost home, Steve. I can’t wait to see my friends again!”

Montrose tried not to look too shocked. Jim Kirk was in a hurry to get those two back?! Gregarious Jim Kirk?! Party animal Jim Kirk?! Either Jim had changed a helluva lot or McCoy and Spock must really thaw around Kirk, because Montrose couldn’t see the attraction. If those two were Kirk’s closest friends, what must the rest of the crew of the Enterprise be like? Montrose almost felt sorry for Kirk and could not understand his enthusiasm. Maybe serving too long in deep space did that to a guy after awhile. But Jim Kirk?!

Oh, well, to each his own. If Kirk wanted McCoy and Spock, Steve Montrose was only too happy to get those two sad sacks on their grumpy, iced-up way. Kirk was welcomed to them.

 

Leonard McCoy had been trying to stay drunk ever since he’d figured out how he was going to get between the Portus and the Enterprise. Sometimes he was more successful at accomplishing complete stupor than at other times. Today he’d been fairly successful, and part of that was because the waiting was almost over. That had been the bad part: the waiting. So he started ticking the days off, like he was waiting for his execution. Two days before he had to be by himself with Spock. One day before he had to be by himself with Spock. Oh, hell, the day he had to be alone with Spock!

Ordinarily, it was the method of transportation that bothered him. He hated the idea of space, but that was where his career lay. He hated the transportation method, but that was easier and quicker than landing a spaceship. A space shuttle seemed to be a more feasible way of getting around for short distances, therefore he approved the method. His problem today was with his fellow passenger and the shuttle craft pilot, his old nemesis Spock.

And now, at long last, they were about to enter the space shuttle Aquinas. Neither Spock nor McCoy spoke to each other, but Montrose was effusive because he was going to be getting the two party poopers on their gloomy way.

“Be sure to say ‘Hi’ to Captain Kirk for me!” Montrose gushed, although he had only a few moments before been talking to Kirk.

“Certainly,” McCoy mumbled through his alcoholic haze. That was more than Spock managed to say, unless a slightly raised eyebrow counted. And the Vulcan could have been aiming that look as a criticism of McCoy's inebriated state and not as any sort of answer to the happy-go-lucky Montrose.

The door whooshed shut on the two Enterprise officers headed for their shuttle, and Montrose breathed a deep, cleansing breath. He hurried away to be back on his bridge when Kirk sent confirmation of the two officers’ arrival back on the Enterprise. Then Montrose and his ship could be merrily on their happy way, and they could forget about McCoy and Spock. Montrose was just sorry that Kirk was saddled with them.

Meanwhile, in the shuttle, Spock and McCoy were getting settled in. As always, there were seven seats. Spock sat in the pilot seat, and McCoy took the seat directly to his right. McCoy wanted to take the next one back, because he really didn’t want to sit beside Spock. But this way he would have an equal advantage as Spock in Jim Kirk‘s vision as they approached the Enterprise.

“Aquinas to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.”

“Spock!” Kirk boomed from the bridge of the Enterprise. “Good to hear your voice!”

“Likewise, Captain.”

McCoy did a mental eye roll. If that was enthusiasm that Spock was displaying, he would hate to see dispassion.

“Bones! Are you there, too?!”

“Hale and hearty!” McCoy answered with false cheer. It rocked his head, though, and he shuddered slightly.

“Sounds like you’re excited to get back home!”

“Always that, sir!” Hell, this shouting was hurting his aching head, but he wasn‘t about to give it up. Not when he saw Spock involuntarily cringe beside him.

Poor, delicate Vulcan ears, McCoy thought with a smirk. Those points on top of those Vulcan ears probably work real well as antennae and pull the slightest sound in very efficiently. Come on, Jim, talk to me more! I want to bug the hell out of this guy! I'm just pissed-off drunk enough and feeling the effects of a hangover enough to be a regular pain in the ass today! I don't care if Spock has to pilot me past Pluto, I want to be the big-mouthed gnat nipping at Spock's asshole on this trip!

“Doctor, I would advise you to fasten your seat belt now,” Spock remonstrated with compressed lips.

“Gotta go, Captain!” McCoy sang out and sounded fake even to himself. “My charming stewardess wants me to assume flying position! See ya soon!”

“I’m counting on it! I’ll see you guys soon! Kirk, out!”

Then they were alone. Talking to Kirk had made it worse because it got so quiet when Kirk went away and left him alone with Spock.

“Aquinas to Portus,” Spock said in monotones. “Ready for launch.”

“Ready for launch, Aquinas,” the engineer answered. “Good luck and bon voyage!”

The outer port opened and the Aquinas flew through it.

Just ahead of them loomed the Enterprise, hanging there in space, ready for her two errant officers to return home.

McCoy felt a catch in his throat. Despite the fog in his throbbing head, he couldn’t belittle what he was seeing. There was the Enterprise! Home! She was so damn beautiful! It was at times like these that McCoy could understand Jim Kirk’s love affair with his ship. It was his home! It was his life! It was his!

Just a few minutes more and McCoy could go to his quarters, pop a pill, sink into darkness with a sigh, and get over this damn headache. His problem was more than a hangover, that’s why pills hadn’t helped much so far. But now medication would, once he was back onboard. Because he’d be home. Psychologically, as well as physically, he’d be home. And he’d be able to sleep again, knowing he was home.

 

“Scott to Bridge.”

“Here, Scotty,” Kirk answered with a grin. “I watched as they approached, then they disappeared around the side. Are they back on board yet?”

“That’s just it, Captain. I don’t see them. They just disappeared.”

Kirk frowned. “What do you mean, they just disappeared?”

“Portus to Enterprise! Jim, where’s the shuttle?! I was watching it, and then it just wasn’t there anymore!”

Kirk‘s frown deepened as he sat forward in the command chair. “Steve, what do you mean, it just wasn’t there anymore?! Where‘s my people?!”

“That’s all I know, Jim. The Aquinas, and your men, are gone!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Spock! What happened?! What was that?!“ McCoy demanded as his head whirled around. “Were we hit by something?!” 

“I do not know, Doctor. We may have gone through some sort of force field or space warp.”

McCoy‘s eyes looked wild. “Space warp?! That’s another way of saying wormhole, isn’t it?!” 

“Even in the Twenty-Third Century, their existence still remains hypothetical,” Spock replied in a tired sounding voice. “Do not borrow trouble, Doctor. We do not want to have to deal with a wormhole.”

“But there was some kind of force! I thought we were going to be ripped apart!”

Spock peered out the window. “The stars are different. Their pattern does not look familiar.”

McCoy‘s mouth dropped open as he looked out the window, too. “Forget the stars! Where’s the Enterprise?!”

“I do not know.” Spock picked up the radio. “Aquinas to Enterprise. Aquinas to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.” He frowned at the radio.

“I don‘t see it anymore! The Enterprise was there just a minute ago! It couldn’t just disappear!”

“I doubt if it did, Doctor. I believe that we did. That is why the stars are different, also.”

McCoy gave Spock a wild look. “What do you mean, we disappeared?! I see you! You see me! I can see the inside of the shuttlecraft! We’re still here! We didn’t disappear!”

“We did to the Enterprise and the Portus.”

“You mean… we’re no longer where we’re supposed to be?!”

“I believe that is correct.” Spock picked up the radio again. “Aquinas to Enterprise. Aquinas to Enterprise. Do you copy? This is the shuttle Aquinas on route to the USS Enterprise. Do you read, Enterprise? USS Portus, do you copy? Trying to contact USS Enterprise or USS Portus. Do you copy?”

Nothing. Spock’s frown deepened.

“Then, where in the hell are we, Spock?!”

“Doctor, I do not know.”

“But, but we gotta be somewhere! Everything’s gotta be somewhere! That‘s a Law of Nature somewhere, surely!”

“I know that, Doctor,” Spock answered as he kept checking his instruments. “We seem to no longer be where we were supposed to be. Our coordinates are off.”

“Well, get us back!”

“I would if I could….”

“But you can’t?! You can‘t get us back to where we were supposed to be?!”

“That is an accurate summation.”

“Well, if this isn’t just a fine how do you do?!” McCoy crossed his arms in disgust. “So, I’m going to die out here in space, all by myself, just as I always figured I would.” 

“You are not alone, Doctor. I am with you.”

“Not helping any,” McCoy muttered.

Spock kept on working with his controls.

“This isn‘t a spaceship, you know,” McCoy reminded Spock, just in case the Vulcan had forgotten. That didn‘t get any response. “This is just a shuttle, meant to go on short hops only. We can‘t take up cruising the galaxy in this buggy. We don‘t have any supplies, for one thing. Medicine. Food. Water.” He glanced at his companion. “All we’ve got is just our luggage and a few souvenirs that aren‘t going to help us one bit out here. Some green cactus candy and a ‘See America First‘ pennant are not going to be a very tasty luncheon. We don‘t have much in survival gear onboard, either, I expect. After all, this thing wasn‘t intended to be the flagship for any grand expedition. Or even as its supply ship,” he added with a note of regret in his voice. Right now, he’d rather have the supply ship, instead of any grand flagship.

“Doctor, I am well aware of all of those facts.“

“Well, just in case you weren’t, I thought that I‘d remind you. We‘re not well equipped. Green cactus candy! That won‘t last us past supper! Not a lot of nutrition in it, either! I bought it at a tourist trap in Arizona! Now, I wish I had the damn cactus it came from! That would‘ve been a more worthwhile purchase!” 

“I am not responsible about how you choose to spend your money.”

“Yeah, but if I’d taken a cactus, I’d probably now be looking at hard time in a Federal Prison. Leavenworth, I expect. Who in the hell would want to be stuck in a prison in Kansas for stealing a cactus?!" He waited for Spock to comment, but continued after a moment. "The cactus was at a National Monument, and it’s against the law to take flora and fauna out of National Parks and Monuments. Damn cactus has more rights than I do!“ he grumbled.

“That is probably a reason for that, Doctor,“ Spock muttered absently as he grabbed the shuttle’s controls and tensed.

Then McCoy felt it. He uncrossed his arms as he looked around in alarm. “What was that?! Why are we moving in a different direction suddenly?! Why are we going backwards?! We aren‘t supposed to be going backwards, are we?!”

“I believe that we are in the gravitational pull of some large body.”

“Some large body of, of what?!”

“Doctor, I do not know.”

“Well, find out!”

“That is what I am trying to do. I am turning the shuttle to see what is pulling us.”

At that moment the edge of a sphere came into view.

“I’ll be damn! What the hell is that?!”

“It appears to be some planet, Doctor. When we first materialized, we were headed away from it. Our thrust prevented us from feeling a pull, but it is now not only slowing our outward projection but changing our motion to downward toward the planet itself.”

McCoy sat upright. “Our speed is increasing!”

“As I said, the planet’s gravitational pull is drawing us down.”

“Are we going to crash?!”

“Not if I can help it.” Spock picked up the radio again. “May Day. May Day. If any ships are receiving this message, this is the Shuttle Aquinas in route from the Starship Portus to the Starship Enterprise. We have been thrown into an unknown location and are currently being drawn into the atmosphere of an unknown planet. Hopefully, our coordinates are being broadcast. If you are receiving this message, please assist as you are able or notify the Enterprise. This is the Shuttle Aquinas requesting aid and assistance.”

“Spock, do something!” McCoy yelled as he braced himself and watched a strange planet rushing toward him. It didn’t look friendly at all. In fact, it looked pissed off that it was about to be invaded, much as a man observed a hornet headed his direction but could do nothing to avoid a collision.

This was not going to be good for them, or for the mysterious planet that was about to be their reluctant host. The shuttle would probably make an ugly scar on its pristine surface.

“Do something now, Spock!” 

“I am,” Spock said calmly as he fought for control of the shuttle. 

McCoy gripped his armrests. “The shuttle is starting to buck!”

“Doctor, you can help yourself, and me, by relaxing.”

“Relaxing?!” McCoy stared at Spock with incredulity. “How in the hell can I relax when there’s a huge red ball getting closer to us and our shuttle is bucking like a crazed mustang?! There‘s not much about this situation that makes me feel happy and jolly!”

“I want you to relax, Doctor. A rough landing might cause you serious injury if you are tense. Tell me more about the cactus candy. Why is it green?”

“Why in the blue blazin’ hell would I want to tell you about cactus candy when I’m going to die in the next few minutes?!”

“It will help distract you by thinking about something else.”

“It’s kinda hard thinking about something else, when the steel arm of the mousetrap is headed for us!”

“Tell me more about how the mousetrap works,” Spock muttered as his hands flew between the controls.

“What the hell?! I’m a doctor, not an exterminator! What the hell do I know about mousetraps?!”

“You are too tense, Doctor. Relax.”

“How in the hell can I relax when any minute I could be dead?! Commander, I‘ve got a damn good reason to be tense! Anybody with any sense at all should be tense as hell about now!”

“Doctor. Please. I need to concentrate. Please be silent.”

“Silent?! How can I be silent when it well might be the last chance I have to talk?!” He braced harder as he began to make out lines of mountains. “Those hills don’t look friendly! They’re jagged! Spock! Jagged hurts! Do something! I don‘t want to die!”

Spock’s fist shot out and caught McCoy on his jaw. McCoy made some sort of surprised sound that wasn’t even language before he slumped wordlessly in his chair.

“I do not wish to die, either, Doctor,” Spock muttered as he continued to work his instruments. “And thank you for relaxing.” Spock pursed his lips. “I wish I could.”

 

McCoy awoke, pulled himself into a sitting position, and moaned as he touched his aching jaw. He looked around. Where in the hell was he?! And why in the hell did his jaw hurt?! Then he remembered. The shuttle. He and Spock had been going to crash onto an alien planet. And that was all he remembered because Spock had hit him.

And where in the hell was Spock?! It wasn’t exactly like the Vulcan could hop a bus and tour Encino because he wanted to see the sights! Their options didn’t seem to be very good along those lines.

At that moment, the door whooshed open, and Spock walked back into the shuttle.

“You hit me,” McCoy accused.

“I helped you to relax,” Spock muttered distractedly as he looked around.

“I’ll report you for striking a fellow officer.”

“Please turn me into the nearest jail, and I will be more than happy to surrender myself to whatever authorities that you can produce. I would like a nice, quiet cell the furthest away from the main door as possible. Solitary confinement would be quite preferable, in fact I would demand it.”

McCoy frowned. Spock never made pessimistic, sarcastic remarks like that, and that sobered McCoy. They must be in dire circumstances.

“Do you know where we are?”

“No,” Spock answered as he checked storage units.

“You must have found breathable air.”

“Yes. In that, we are fortunate.”

We’re be able to breathe right up until the moment we die of starvation or injury, McCoy thought, or from some unknown contagion growing freely in this environment or a hundred other things that McCoy could list. But thankfully he kept that information to himself. He figured that Spock already knew about the possibility of those problems. 

Besides, McCoy didn’t want to get hit again. Spock had seemed a little touchy about McCoy reminding him about their options before their forced landing, and the Vulcan hadn’t taken the information too well. Case in point, McCoy’s throbbing jaw. Despite what Spock had always maintained about being a pacifist, he had now exposed himself as being quite capable of violence. McCoy had proven that Spock had a chink in his armor, but somehow, it seemed like a hollow victory to McCoy.

“Is the ship injured?” McCoy wanted to know.

“I was able to land it without damage, I believe. It is still completely flyable.”

Now they just needed a destination to fly to that preferably was in the last general location of the Enterprise, but McCoy kept that opinion to himself, too. First they had to know where they were before they could leave it. 

Spock closed his eyes and rolled his head on his shoulders.

McCoy‘s doctor mode kicked in. “Were you injured?” he asked and chided himself for asking about the ship first.

“Some muscular strain and stress. Maybe some torn ligaments. I was not as relaxed as I should have been when we landed.”

Was McCoy mistaken, or was there just the teeniest bit of antagonism in Spock’s voice and demeanor? McCoy decided to change the subject. He was developing discretion a little late, but it had, at last, kicked in.

Maybe Spock had been reluctant to travel with McCoy, also. McCoy had never considered that, but suddenly he was understanding that Spock might not have wanted to be with a belligerent drunk who couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“Is it safe to go outside?” McCoy asked.

“I believe so. We seem to be quite alone.”

McCoy had mixed thoughts about that information. No saber-toothed tigers were waiting for him outside, but then he already had one with him in the shuttle.

It was a dry world outside the shuttle. McCoy looked around. Before him lay an arid wasteland with no vegetation that he could readily see. The landscape before him didn’t have many prospects for being a smorgasbord of edible foodstuffs. Yet there should be plant life somewhere to maintain the oxygen levels. The air seemed pure and fresh, probably because there were no pollutants to contaminate it. That meant no progressive civilizations with advanced technology. That meant no beings with higher brains. That meant that there was nobody around to hurt them, or to help them, either.

McCoy had mixed thoughts about that information, also.

“I don’t see any signs proclaiming ‘Welcome to Paradise,’” McCoy said as Spock joined him outside the shuttle.

“I doubt if you will.”

McCoy almost mocked him, but his aching jaw reminded him that perhaps he should restrain himself. The Vulcan did seem to have a cut-off point for tolerance. Maybe that was what McCoy had been trying to find out for a long time. What was the point at which Spock lost his patience? Maybe now McCoy didn’t have to push Spock so hard since he had discovered that Spock could lash out without warning. Just like everyone else.

McCoy wondered if he wanted to push Spock that hard again.

“It seems awfully quiet around here,” McCoy muttered, mainly to say something in their new environment.

“I am taking that as a plus right now. I suggest that we look around.”

“Have you seen any traces of animal life or growing vegetation?” McCoy asked as they walked over the barren, rocky ground.

“No.”

“Possible water sources?”

“Not yet.”

“What assets are in the shuttle?”

“Some rather interesting items.”

“I don’t care if they’re interesting! What are they? Food? Water?”

“Some water. Protein bars. And solar blankets. I expect they were stocked in case a shuttle rider wanted refreshment or was chilled on the ride. Although I do not understand why someone would require refreshment or warmth on a short shuttle ride.”

“Neither do I, but we may thank our lucky stars that we have that much. Before this is over, we may both wish we had tin bills so we could pick shit with the chickens.”

Spock frowned as he looked at McCoy. “I do not understand your reference, Doctor. Why would I want to pick shit with the chickens? And why would I want to do it with a tin bill?”

“In order to understand the expression, you have to realize how a chicken’s digestive system works.”

“And?”

“You want to know how a chicken eats and utilizes its food?! Now?!”

Spock shrugged. “I might not think of it again, and I am curious at the moment.” Besides, it would occupy the doctor’s thinking while they were searching their new habitat. Since entering the shuttle, Spock had learned that it was best to keep McCoy’s active brain occupied, otherwise the good doctor tended to get too emotional. Spock did not wish to have to resort to slugging McCoy again. That was a surefire method of getting him to shut up, it was true. But Spock would have to aim for the other jaw, because the one Spock had already hit looked painful and throbbing. And Spock did not want to injure his hand further.

“Please continue, Doctor. And watch your footing.” Ah, two things to keep McCoy’s brain occupied.

“Chickens don’t have teeth, Spock, or hands. Imagine trying to eat like that. They pick their food up in their bills and swallow it whole. The food goes to their craws. Now, in order for chickens to get some good out of their food, they have to grind it up. So they swallow small rocks and pebbles in order to do that. Chickens that are in confinement and are not free-range are given broken up oyster shell. This helps in the formation of egg shells and in the grinding of grain and food pellets. The ground up food and small rocks and pebbles passes through the chickens’ systems, and the waste products are eventually eliminated the way Mother Nature intended. Upon close examination of this eliminated material, the small rocks and pebbles can be seen. They have been changed by going through the chickens’ systems, though. The rocks and pebbles look round and smooth like their larger cousins who have gone through rapid water in a streambed. Thrifty chickens spot these recycled rocks and pebbles, scoop them up, and swallow them to start the cycle all over again.”

Spock was giving McCoy a look of disgust. “Do the chickens eat their own eliminated rocks and pebbles?”

“Chickens don’t guard their poop, if that’s what you’re asking. If they spot a likely candidate, they scoop it up, no matter who pooped it out before them.”

“That is not a very pleasant scenario, Doctor.”

“The chickens don’t care, Spock, so why should you? They seem to thrive on the system. They‘ll eat anything. Each other, if they get the chance. They are quite the cannibals. They owe no allegiance to each other. It‘s a matter of dog eat dog. Or in their case, chicken eat chicken. If you want to get really nauseated, research the history of gelatin. It comes from boiling animals‘ joints. Children used to be told that gelatin came from horses‘ hooves.”

“Yet another argument for being a vegetarian.”

“Yeah, I expect we wouldn’t eat a lot of food if we knew some of the steps involved for it going from being a living organism to a foodstuff for our use.”

“But what is the ‘tin bill’ reference?”

“It’s an old country expression. A farmer was heard to utter those words when he saw nothing but hard times ahead for him and his family. Family members later shortened it to ‘having to get out our tin bills,’ but everyone knew the reference and what it meant.”

“It would be difficult to forget.”

“Especially for a child. Fathers are supposed to know everything. They are supposed to ensure a safe and comfortable future for their children.” McCoy smirked. “I doubt if my daughter lives under any such illusions about me.”

“She knows that you are trying to do your best.”

“Now, how would you know that?!”

“Because I can see how much it pains you to think you are not. If you did not care, it would not bother you. You are being a good father.”

“Why, thanks, Spock, that was very considerate of you to say.” And McCoy did feel less guilty. Maybe someone understood his viewpoint, after all.

“It was only logical, Doctor. You are a very learned person and are quite responsible. You would take the role of a father quite seriously.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You would have to have those qualities to be in charge of the medical facilities on the Enterprise, would you not?”

Spock’s high regard for his status on the Enterprise surprised McCoy and almost embarrassed him. “I suppose.” He blustered. “But enough of that kind of talk! In the meantime, we are not finding very much of what we need to survive on this planet.”

“But did you not note the rugged beauty of the place? The rocks and red wastelands?”

“Only a Vulcan would find beauty in this landscape,” McCoy muttered. “It probably reminds you of Vulcan.”

“It does. Maybe you will grow to appreciate it, Doctor.”

Yeah, McCoy thought. If this is the only thing I’m ever going to see again, I’d better do more than appreciate it. I’d better start embracing it as home, sweet, home.

“You may well have a point, Mr. Spock.”

“I felt that you would see the logic of the situation,” Spock said with a benign smile. “Seeing as how we may be here for some time to come.”


	4. Chapter 4

“I still do not know why you thought you had to hit me the way you did,” McCoy grumbled as they continued to scout their new surroundings.

“Doctor, it seemed like an equitable solution at the time. I needed to concentrate and could not answer your questions for which I had no answer. And you needed to relax.”

“I could’ve helped you, you know. You don’t always have to be the one who knows everything.”

“I do not know everything. You just taught me about tin bills for chickens, for instance. I had never heard that reference before now.”

“You weren’t listening again! It was tin bills for people so they could pick shit with the chickens, so they wouldn’t go hungry! The chickens don‘t need tin bills! Their beaks are sharp enough the way it is!”

“Oh, yes, I had forgotten all of the details. Forgive me.”

“You’re laughing at me.”

“I am not. When have I ever laughed at you? When have I ever laughed at anything?”

“Well, you do have a point there. I expect that something in your face would break if you ever tried to laugh.” His eyes snapped. “But you’re mocking me then!”

“Doctor, I assure you that is not my goal.”

“Maybe it wasn’t. Then I gave you the idea.”

The doctor was improving, Spock had to admit. Maybe he was getting over his hangover. 

“You aren’t saying anything, Vulcan.”

“I was agreeing with you.”

McCoy stopped. “Are you saying that you were mocking me?! Are you admitting to that?!”

“I am saying that I am agreeing with you.” Spock knew that he was beginning to have problems with the thread of the discussion. Spock hoped that McCoy was now hopelessly lost in the conversation, too.

McCoy was. “Well, just so you agree with me,” he mumbled. He stopped again. “I saw that smile! You’re doing it again!”

“Perhaps the sun caught my eye, and I squinted.”

“Take that ‘perhaps’ out of that sentence and say it again. Aha! You can’t. It’d be a lie then! And you supposedly can’t tell lies! But you sure as hell can twist the hell out of the truth when it so pleases you!”

“Doctor--”

“And don’t try to placate me! It’s just condescending when you do that!”

“Doctor, I am trying to do my best to keep us alive in this hostile environment.”

“You said that it reminded you of Vulcan!”

“And you have always thought of my home planet as being hostile. And it simply different than yours and that is all.”

“How in the hell did we get on that topic?!”

“I do not know. I want to keep us focused on surviving.”

“You keep evading the issue. You hit me!”

“Doctor--”

“And the only reason you got that done is that you took me by surprise!”

“Would it have been better if we would have gotten into a fistfight as the shuttle was hurtling toward this planet? You would be dead now from the impact, but you would have died vindicated.”

“There is that!”

“And you would be proud if your tombstone read, ‘Here lies a man who finally proved that he was right, and he died proving it?’”

“Hot damn, now you’re talking!”

Spock stopped himself from saying what first crossed his mind, then he amended it. “Doctor, the heat is getting to you,” he said as he tried to move away. “I suggest that we continue our reconnaissance.”

“Wait! What were you going to say and stopped yourself?!”

“You have no need to know.”

“Yes, I do! It was about me, so fire away!”

“It would only infuriate you and your hair-trigger anger.”

“Hair-trigger anger?! Me?! I’ve got a hair-trigger anger?!”

“That is what I said. Now, please--”

“Where I come from, those are fighting words!”

“Doctor, that is what I feared,” Spock said with a sigh that barely hid his displeasure. 

“Stop sighing like that like I’m the most trying thing you’ve ever had to deal with!”

“You said it, Doctor.”

“You’re pissing me off, Vulcan!”

“I am merely defending myself verbally.”

McCoy raised his fists. “Then defend yourself physically!”

“Doctor--” Spock said with a bored sigh.

“There you are with that damn sighing again! Now put up, or shut up!”

“I will shut up.”

“But you’ll be thinking!” 

“You cannot control my thinking.”

“Well, if you can’t, I can!”

“How do you propose to do something to me that I, with all of my higher abilities than yours, cannot do?”

“You can’t think if you’re unconscious! No man can do that! Not even a badass Vulcan like you who thinks he knows everything about everything! I’m getting really tired of you acting so superior to everyone else! I‘ll cold-cock you, if that‘s what it takes to shut you up!” 

“Please do not use colloquialisms. You know that I do not understand them. Why would you wish to hit me with a frozen rooster?”

That stopped McCoy. “What?!” Then McCoy threatened with his fists again. “I’m going to knock you flat on that green ass of yours! That’s what I meant! And it’ll be a hard enough blow to knock you out! That’s how I’ll control that computer that you call a brain!” He began to dance around with his fists raised. “I’ll give that computer in your head some serious downtime! It‘ll be your turn to relax!” 

“Doctor, we should save our energy.”

“You save yours, if you want, Vulcan,” McCoy said as he sparred the air with his fists. “I’m going to expend some of mine. You need straightening out, bad.”

“I do not wish to fight you.”

“Then prepare to get the hell beaten out of yourself! ‘Cause it’s gonna happen, whether you defend yourself or not!”

“Doctor, I can easily defeat you. I am stronger than you are.”

“Yeah, but I’m madder!” McCoy declared as he danced around stiffly on his feet with his fists raised as he had seen prizefighters do. He had anger and right on his side, forget the humorous effect that his bantam rooster stance and demeanor reflected.

“I cannot raise my fists to you, Doctor. You have saved my life several times and have helped me with countless medical problems.”

“That was the professional me! Now, it’s you and me! As it was meant to be! Scrapping like wildcats!”

Spock looked pained. “Really, Doctor, I cannot see the advisability of doing this exercise. We are marooned. We need to conserve the resources that we managed to save. We need to be seeking adequate shelter and searching for viable water and edible foodstuffs. We need to be ascertaining the dangers of this environment so that we will be prepared to survive in the event of adverse weather conditions arising or carnivorous animals attacking.”

“You got the damn checklist in your head! You can put pretty little markers beside each item as it is assessed and categorized! That is, as soon as you can see out of your black eyes again!”

“Doctor. I am a man of peace. But I will not allow myself to be attacked, so I must warn you. I will be using the Vulcan nerve pinch when you get close enough. But I do not wish to do that. It is counterproductive. It is highly important now that we must conserve energy and work together. We need each other to survive.”

“You got all the answers, don’t you?! Know the right things to say, don’t you?!”

Spock breathed deeply for control. “I am trying to be tolerant and diplomatic.”

“You’re trying to be a pain in the ass! And you’re succeeding! Now, put up your hands and fight! Because I‘m attacking your green ass!”

Spock took another deep breath. “You are being illogical.”

“Logic wasn’t my goal!”

“In that, you are succeeding.”

“There! See?! Condescending, as hell! And all that deep breathing you’re doing right now will cause you to hyperventilate!”

“I will defend myself.”

“Well, you‘re going down, Vulcan! Defend yourself against this!” And with that, McCoy changed his sport from boxing to football. Instead of a prizefighter, he became a fullback. He lowered his head and plowed into Spock’s midsection with a perfect block and knocked the Vulcan off his feet as predicted. The move took Spock by surprise. 

They landed in a heap with McCoy on top, but McCoy didn’t pause now since he had the advantage. He had the element of surprise on his side and used it to good advantage by preceding to beat Spock senseless. His fists hammered like pistons of a car, beating back and forth, though, instead of up and down. First the left fist struck Spock’s face, then McCoy’s right. 

“Come on, defend yourself, Vulcan!” McCoy challenged in his anger as he sat on Spock‘s chest and beat away. “I’ve heard so much about your mighty powers, let’s see a demonstration! Or is it all blow and no show?!” 

McCoy drew back a fist to strike, but he paused and looked at Spock’s battered face. Spock’s hands were raised to protect himself and that was all. That didn’t make sense. The Vulcan wasn’t aggressive and defensive, even though he’d said he would be. McCoy must have landed a lucky punch and dazed the Vulcan. Plus, McCoy finally remembered, Spock had sustained some physical strain when he’d landed the shuttle. Maybe McCoy was beating up an injured man.

Maybe Spock wasn’t protecting himself now because he no longer could. In McCoy’s eyes, Spock changed from being an opponent to being McCoy’s victim. That wasn’t right. McCoy didn’t hit a man when he was down, even if it was a Romulan. Why should he be beating on someone who was supposed to be on his side?

McCoy pulled himself to his feet. “You’ve had enough, Vulcan.”

Spock sat up and tried to get himself oriented.

“Oh, hell, let me help you up.” McCoy reached down and pulled Spock to his feet. “Are you okay? I think I must’ve landed a sucker punch. I‘m not that much of a fighter.”

A weaving Spock turned to McCoy and frowned as he tried to concentrate on McCoy’s face. Then pieces of a puzzle must have fit together for Spock, but not in the right sequence, because he suddenly looked frightened. “No!” He turned and started dogtrotting away.

“Hey, where are you going?!”

Spock didn’t answer.

“Spock! What the hell?! Stop!”

“You will hurt me if I stop!”

“No, I won’t!” McCoy took off running after Spock. “You’ve got to stop!”

As if he was obeying, Spock fell to the ground and landed on his back. Then McCoy saw loose rocks scattering around Spock’s feet and knew that Spock had tripped on them.

It would’ve been alright if Spock would’ve lain there and let McCoy get to him to help him. But Spock was frightened and tried crawling backwards away from the advancing McCoy.

McCoy stopped. He realized that he should’ve done that quicker. Anything could be behind Spock, and the Vulcan sure as hell wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. His only concern was in getting away from McCoy.

“Spock! Stop! Stop crawling!”

Spock shook his head and dug his heels into the loose rock to push himself further away. Rock rolled away from him on all sides.

“You’re hurt, damn it!” McCoy called. “Come back here and let me look at you!”

Spock didn’t answer. His only thought was to get away, away from his tormentor.

“Don’t make me have to tell you twice!”

That was no way for a doctor to talk to a patient or to anyone who feared for his life, but McCoy wasn’t seeing Spock as a patient or someone who needed reassurance. McCoy was seeing him only as an alien aggravation who had to be stopped for his own stupid good.

“Damn it! Stop, I say!”

Spock was on his back, trying desperately to scramble backwards over the rock pile. Behind him, the rock sloped upwards at a sharp angle. It was just a matter of time before all of that would come tumbling down, carrying the Vulcan with it to land at McCoy‘s feet or on them, if McCoy didn‘t move quickly enough. All that would get for Spock would be more injuries. And his rolling body and the resulting rockslide it would cause might endanger McCoy. More than McCoy’s feet might be compromised. They both might wind up dead within fifteen minutes of landing. And it would be for a stupid reason, but people have died for dumber reasons. If they had to die here, McCoy didn’t want it to be for something stupid.

There was no reason for either of them to create more danger for themselves. The damn alien was just being stubborn. He needed to haul his green ass back to safety.

But instead of logical pleas or heartfelt reassurances, the only thing that came out of McCoy‘s mouth reflected his annoyance. “You sure as hell are knot headed!”

Spock’s only answer was to try to gain some sort of mobility in his slippery world. It must have been like trying to scoot around on a field of marbles while lying down.

Then a rock disappeared behind Spock, and McCoy stopped as his eyes bulged. Where in the hell had that rock gone?! It had simply vanished. Rocks shouldn’t do that. One moment it had been there behind Spock‘s left shoulder, and the next the rock was no longer there. But where had it gone?!

Then McCoy knew. The rock had disappeared because it had been on the edge of a cliff and had finally slipped over the edge. Simple as that. Rocks don’t float; they drop. Old Man Gravity had taken over, and the rock had tumbled to the next spot where it would reach a place solid enough and flat enough to stop its progress. Inertia would have also kicked in by then and impeded its speed. But, until it stopped, it would be going like hell and hurting itself all along the way.

All of that bouncing and banging around might not be a good thing for the rock. The fall wouldn’t be all that bad. In a way, it would be kind of freeing. It was the stopping that would be the bitch. That would tend to smart some. Because, no matter how hard a traveling body was, what it might be hitting would probably be a whole lot harder. Generally, that doesn’t bode well.

In other words, the rock would fall, strike other rocks, and maybe even shatter. Whatever, it wasn’t good news for the rock, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be good news for Spock if he took a similar tumble. He would shatter a hell of a lot faster than a rock. And, instead of smaller rocks where one larger one had previously been, there would be broken bones and brain matter and green blood scattered around. A lot of broken bones. A lot of brain matter. A lot of green blood. And McCoy didn’t know if he could stitch it all back together again, not with the tools on hand. He was damn good, but even he had to have something to work with.

Try to explain all of that to Spock, though. He seemed to have his own agenda at the moment. And for a change, logic didn’t seem to be having much to do with his current decision making. For once, McCoy wished that Spock would get his damn aggravating logic back, if only for a little while so Spock could get to safety.

Spock was inching toward the edge of the precipice, but didn‘t realize that it was a precipice. He felt like he was going uphill. He was, but the rock had a lip, then nothing. If seen from the side, it would look like a wave curling back on itself at the peak. But Spock didn‘t know that. McCoy did, but had no idea if his knowledge was going to do anybody any good. Spock needed to get the hell out of there.

Every instinct in McCoy urged him to run forward and grab the other man. But McCoy suddenly realized that if he did that, Spock would use the last of his energy to scramble backwards from McCoy’s seeming attack. Likely as not, Spock would then proceed to plunge over the cliff. That would come as one helluva surprise, McCoy figured.

Then McCoy’s nemesis would be gone. In a shower of rocks and boulders, Spock would plunge backwards to his death. Would he clutch at the rock falling with him to try to gain purchase, any hold no matter how small to save himself? Would he scream, knowing that he would be dying at any moment? Would the falling be agony and feel never ending? Would the landing finally end the suspense? 

Would McCoy’s unreasonable anger and unexplainable intolerance at last be appeased?

A picture of Spock lying broken and crushed and quiet forevermore amid rock debris flashed in McCoy’s mind. He should feel elated.

Instead, McCoy felt sickened and inadequate, and it wasn‘t for the reason he would‘ve figured. It went more basic than that.

It wasn’t a doctor unable to help a dead patient.

It wasn’t a human triumphant over an alien and finding the victory to be hollow.

No, it was something else.

It was a life form not helping another life form. In the war against Death, those who were still living had to help each other. McCoy had to help that other life form to exist, no matter who or what that life form was.

And at the moment, that life form was in danger of dying unless McCoy could prevent it. Wouldn’t it be nice if McCoy got lucky and the Vulcan passed out?

But McCoy figured that his luck, and Spock’s, had just run out.


	5. Chapter 5

“Spock.” 

Spock grimaced and tried to scramble again. He was obviously tiring, but still desperate.

“Don’t move,” McCoy said softly. “I won’t hurt you.” He began to take a cautious step forward.

Spock whimpered and tried to move his protesting body. Loose rock scattered away from him. Some fell over the edge behind him, but he did not realize it.

McCoy eased his weight back off the advancing foot. Spock stopped trying to move. They had a standoff.

“Spock,” McCoy tried to say calmly. “Your life is in danger where you are.”

“I know! You are coming for me!”

“No. Spock. Listen. You are on the edge of a cliff. You are in danger of falling.”

“A cliff?! What nonsense are you telling me?!” 

“The shelf you are on could break away at any moment.”

“You would try anything, would you not, to get to me!”

It was almost as if Spock didn’t understand English anymore. Then McCoy realized that it wasn’t the language, but who was speaking it.

“Spock, I want to help you. Let me pull your legs toward me.”

“No!”

“I am afraid that if I get closer than that to you, our combined weight will cause the rock to break away.”

“No! You lie! You wish to kill me!”

“Spock, if I wished to do that, I’d keep making you back away from me until you went over the edge. I wouldn't even have to endanger myself much, just spook you into trying to get away from me.”

“You lie! There is a steep ridge behind me!”

“And then it stops. And disappears. It’s a lip, but that’s all that it is. It isn’t safety behind you. It‘s death. You gotta believe me--”

“You lie!”

Rocks continued to slide around and behind Spock. Some of the material was disappearing. Any moment now would be Spock’s last as he followed the rock over the edge.

Then McCoy was inspired. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it. Pick up a rock and throw it back over your head.”

Spock was hesitant. He thought it was a ploy to distract him so that McCoy could charge him. Spock didn‘t know if McCoy would beat him further with his fists or finally take some pity on him and just finish killing him quickly. A third choice, McCoy trying to help him, glimmered dimly in Spock‘s mind, but it was not a logical option for the belligerent doctor. Still, it glimmered. Life is always optimistic.

“I’m trying to save you, damn it!” McCoy declared, as if he had read Spock’s convoluted thinking.

“Why? Because you fear what Jim Kirk would do to you if I do not survive?”

“If you were dead, I could tell Jim anything, and he’d have to believe me. Who would contradict me? A dead man? Look. What do you have to lose? Just toss a rock and see what happens. If it hits rock and causes loose rock to slide toward you, then you’ll know I lied. But if you hear nothing, except for a distant plop, then you just might consider what I told you to be the truth.”

Spock kept his eyes on McCoy as his hand scrabbled for a suitable rock. He grasped a fairly round one that fit in his hand nicely.

“I could throw this at you, Doctor.”

“That’s right. You could. I foolishly gave you an opportunity to find a weapon, didn’t I? But I could duck, which I intend on doing. By throwing a rock hard enough to hurt me, though, you could cause that shelf to break. And then I will make a last ditch effort to save you by charging you. The result will be that we both will plunge to our deaths, but then I will die with the satisfaction that I had finally proven something to you. I was finally right. What a victory that would be!”

Spock almost allowed himself a grin. “Does dying mean so little to you that you would die to prove a point?”

“That’s what you’re willing to do, isn’t it? Why can’t I follow your rules?”

“It is not logical for you to do that. You should not die needlessly.”

“We’re following your rules, remember? I’m not the one with a death wish. You accused me of the same thing just moments ago. Apparently, you think that‘s all I live for, to be right. But you’re wrong, even though you think I‘m trying to drink myself to death. I don’t want to die. I want to live, for however long that can be on this desolate rock. And like it or not, I’d rather not be stranded here by myself. I’m a gregarious animal at heart.”

Spock went dead still, then frowned. A smile tickled his lips, despite the tense situation he was in. “You, Doctor? Gregarious?” His voice was mocking and almost humorous.

“Yes, me! Now, throw the damn rock and get the suspense over!”

Spock seemed to weigh his options. Throw the rock at McCoy, or over his head. He raised the rock.

And tossed it back over his head. The thin strand of optimism had won out. Spock took a chance on McCoy one last time, even if it wasn’t logical.

Spock and McCoy stared into each other’s eyes as they listened for the sound of the rock’s landing. Near or far? Truth or consequences?

In the far distance, beneath them, they heard the soft plop and the sliding of rock.

Spock looked startled as he shifted about. McCoy had not lied. But then, suddenly, he had other problems. Truth AND consequences had been the actual winner. Mother Nature was getting tired of playing with them. She wanted some retribution in the form of one beaten up, bedraggled Vulcan, and she was getting ready to collect.

An ominous cracking started beneath Spock, and he looked desperately at McCoy. Spock paled and his mouth dropped open. He grabbed onto the rock at his sides as if he could prevent it from falling. 

McCoy rushed forward, grabbed Spock’s feet, and pulled hard. Spock yelled as his body was dragged over the loose rock, but McCoy figured it was better for Spock to lose some of his skin than his life.

The shelf that had been beneath Spock cracked completely and started to slide down the mountain. McCoy aimed for an overhang directly behind him where they could be safe for the moment. He hoped that the shelf that had been under Spock wouldn’t keep calving off the same as an iceberg would.

Then McCoy heard another ominous crack, but it was above him. He looked up and saw rock sliding down the mountain toward them. He could drop Spock’s feet and made a dash for the overhang, thus saving himself. But Spock would be left vulnerable to the loose rock that was headed straight for him. Another onslaught would probably finish him. If the rock didn’t crush him, the shock might snuff out his life. Once again the specter of Spock’s broken and lifeless body arose in McCoy’s mind eye.

McCoy didn’t hesitate, for in another moment it would be too late. He turned and threw himself over Spock’s body. He landed so that he was braced on his elbows over Spock’s head. His face hovered over Spock’s. At the last moment he pulled his hands over his own head.

Loose rocks and stones flowed over and around them like so much lava. At one point Spock felt McCoy relax with a grunt and collapse against him. Spock turned his head slightly so he could keep breathing. McCoy could have smothered him, otherwise. As it was now, McCoy’s face was cheek to cheek next to his.

At last the avalanche ended, but the two men did not move. Spock couldn’t even wiggle with McCoy’s dead weight on him. Was McCoy alive or dead? Spock might well die because he couldn’t get away from a dead body on top of him. How ironic would that be?

Then Spock was aware of breathing next to his ear.

Spock needed to get McCoy off him, but he was so injured that he could not move McCoy. Spock’s immense strength seemed to have deserted him.

“Doctor? Dr. McCoy?”

No response.

“Dr. McCoy, can you hear me?”

“Hmm?” McCoy moaned, and Spock felt something within himself leap for joy. He did not want to be stranded with a dead man sprawled all over him. In fact, he did not want to be stranded with a dead man lying a distance away from him. And then he realized that he did not want to be stranded by himself, for whatever reason.

That was a first, Spock thought. Stranded with his nemesis was preferable to being by himself? That really was a first!

And he did not want McCoy to be the dead man. McCoy was barely living in the life he was leading, but he was living and should stay that way. And Spock realized that he did not want McCoy to be dead.

Spock could move his arms, amazing as that seemed. True, there were loose rocks on them that he had to shove away, but finally he had his arms free. Then he lay there with his arms held up in the air. A small victory! At this stage, he would take his victories where he could get them. But he must look like the proverbial turtle on its back with his arms flailing about, he decided.

What to do with those freed arms when he could move nothing else? He knew in a flash. He needed a hug, and he decided that McCoy needed one, also.

But his touch told him that rock debris was all over McCoy’s back, and removal of that rubble suddenly became priority. The hug was forgotten as Spock started shoving the rocks away to free the man on top of him. He managed to grab the larger rocks and throw them away. Some plopped at a near distance. Some weren’t heard from again, until there was a soft plop far below them. That’s when Spock decided that he and McCoy were on the edge of the new cliff. Whatever they did, they had to be careful of too much moving around, or this sanctuary might break away, also.

“Hmm,” McCoy said again, a little louder. Spock couldn’t mistake what the doctor was saying because his lips were right next to Spock’s ear. McCoy’s breath tickled the surface of Spock’s ear and made it itch. And that was frustrating. There was no way that Spock could reach his ear to scratch it because McCoy’s head was in the way.

But the noise from McCoy reassured Spock. He decided that must mean that the man was going to live, and that fact excited Spock so much that he decided to try for the hug again. He threw his arms around McCoy‘s back and settled in for a long squeeze. He had never touched McCoy except accidentally or had McCoy touch him except during a medical examination, so this was a real treat. Ordinarily, Spock did not encourage tactile exposure, but for once it was very welcome. It felt better than he even thought it would. Some part of him had decided on a vegetative level that he would never touch another human being again, so he was going to take advantage of this opportunity before it, too, was snatched away from him. He had so few perks available to him at the moment that he was going to take advantage of this one.

In fact, he was on the point of having his eyes tear up with emotion when McCoy finally started coming to his senses for good.

“Hmm. Ouch.” He opened his eyes and got a very close-up view of Spock’s pointed ear. McCoy pushed back slightly. “What in the hell?!” He started to push further against Spock. “Let me loose!”

“Doctor. May I caution you? We may be very close to the edge of the new cliff.”

McCoy stropped his struggling. “Oh. Yeah. But why do you have a hold of me like a damn boa constrictor?!”

“You were awakening and I feared that you might move around too much.” Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth, either. “And you might be disoriented upon awakening, so I thought that I might reassure you.” Better, but still not quite the truth. “And to reassure me.” Better, yet, but still not--

“I didn’t ask for a damn soliloquy! I just wanted to know why you were hugging me, and I got a damn multiple choice answer!”

The doctor said ‘hugging’ and came closer to the truth than Spock had. In fact, it was right on the money. The only difference was that McCoy didn’t have to be evasive of motives, and Spock did.

“Are you injured, Doctor?”

“I don’t know. You’ve still got a hold of me so tight, I feel like I’m wearing a full body girdle.”

“My arms could not possibly reach the full extent of your body.”

“You must not be too injured yourself, or you wouldn’t be able to be so damn lippy!”

“I do not know. I have a full body doctor on top of me.”

And just by saying that, they both became very aware of how plastered McCoy was on top of Spock.

“Oh. Well. I’ll try to correct that.”

“Careful. We may still be in danger of falling.”

McCoy cautiously pushed himself up, but almost immediately began grimacing.

“Doctor?”

“My back feels like it’s bruised all to hell.”

“I removed quite a lot of rock from you before you woke up.”

“Thanks.” He very carefully sat on his knees, and some small rocks fell off him. “So far, so good.”

“Before you move much further, where are you heading?”

McCoy nodded toward where Spock’s feet were pointing. “That overhang. It seems to have an indentation, now that I can see it better. There may even be a cave that would offer shelter.”

“Or it could be the lair for some large carnivore which will eventually come home in the evening or is currently waiting for us to come closer.”

“Aren’t you being just the little ray of sunshine?” McCoy muttered.

“I am just being realistic, Doctor.”

“You’re being pessimistic, so stop arguing with me!”

“I am not arguing, Doctor, merely stating facts.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to face those facts, okay?”

“Are you going to be unreasonable, Doctor?”

“Just as unreasonable as I can be! IF that is alright with you.”

“There seems to be very little I can do about it at the present moment.”

“The present moment needs to be used for something else, Vulcan. Maybe we should stop talking and get ourselves over to that overhang.”

If Spock would have said the same thing, McCoy would be tearing him a new one by now.

McCoy took the chance to pull Spock to his feet. “Sorry. I know this is going to hurt.“

Spock grunted and turned pale as McCoy raised him up. He grunted again when McCoy pulled his arm around McCoy’s neck.

“Okay?”

Spock nodded his head quickly and bit his lips together.

The rock they were standing on held, and McCoy helped Spock over to the overhand where he lowered him to the ground.

Spock lay down with a sigh.

“I’ll scan you with my tricorder. At least I still have that.”

“And if I am severely injured, you will perform intricate surgery using the best instruments and anesthetics that Starfleet can provide?”

“In your case, I’d let you bite on a stick while I cut away at you with a dull pocketknife,” McCoy muttered as he ran the tricorder over Spock. “You know I don‘t have adequate medical supplies. Stop being so pessimistic.”

“I am a realist, Doctor.”

“You’re a pain.” He pulled back. “There’s bones broken in you, alright. A small bone is cracked in your left leg. Ribs are broken. I didn’t help you any by pulling on you just now. That must‘ve hurt like hell.“

“It was better than going over a cliff.“

“But not by much. Damn it! If I was back on the Enterprise with access to a bone knitter, I could fix you up in no time! You’re probably just bruised all to hell, just as I am. You’ve probably got a slight concussion, too. I could work on all of that. Take away the pain and prevent scarring.” He turned away in disgust. “Sorry, my hands are tied. I wish I could do more for you, but I can‘t.”

“I am still alive, thanks to you.“

“It isn’t as much as I’d like.“

“But I am grateful for what it is.“ Spock sat up. “Now, I will check your back.”

“No need. What good would it do?”

“Satisfaction? Now, let me examine you with the tricorder. We need to know the extent of your injuries.”

McCoy turned his back and squatted.

“Your back is a mess, also, Doctor.”

“It feels like a tractor’s been driven over it.”

“It was foolish what happened between us. It was stupid.”

“Yeah, well, I know that and you know that, but it still happened! And now we have to live with the consequences! My mother said that if people can’t listen, then they gotta feel! So, now I guess we’ll feel!”

“Doctor, who are you angry with?”

“You, me, the shuttle, the universe, the damn rift or warp or whatever in the hell we went through! This damn planet being so barren!”

“And will it do you any good to vent that anger?”

“Yes! I want something to appreciate what I’m going through! Even if it’s just you and all those damn red rocks around us!”

“I suggest that we make arrangements to spend the evening here, instead. I will not be too much help, I fear. You could bring the supplies from the shuttle. That would be a better use of your energy. Then we can eat and make ourselves as comfortable as possible for the night. I know that is early, but we are injured and need to recuperate. Tomorrow will be soon enough to see what this world has to offer to us.”

“This place?” McCoy asked, looking around. “This arid wasteland?”

“It has sustained us so far, Doctor. We need to give the land a chance.”

“Damn Vulcan! Always--” And the rest of it was mumbling.

“Pardon?”

“Right! You’re always right! Now, stop feeling so smug about it, and let’s see what our grand suite has to offer us in accommodations!”

Spock hurt in a hundred places, especially his head, yet he managed a weak smile to himself. He didn’t dare let the doctor see that smile, but Spock was almost contended. 

They were alive, and not everything that had been alive and prospering in the universe this morning would still be able to make that claim by nightfall tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

At least they had shelter, but now they needed food and water. After Spock had given in to his pain and exhaustion, he began to hover in a twilight sleep and all McCoy could do was sit and listen to whatever Spock was fighting inside himself. Ordinarily, McCoy would suspect concussion, but it was a combination of McCoy’s beating on Spock and the rock slides that had injured Spock. Hard telling how extensive Spock’s injuries went. A tricorder could tell McCoy only so much. 

And McCoy couldn’t do a whole lot about Spock’s injuries now with night coming on. He hoped that he could keep animals away with the fire he’d lit. Thank goodness he’d found a few matches in the shuttle. He’d have to locate a source of flint before the matches ran out. Then he’d have to try to figure out how in the hell to make fire from flint stone. Native Americans had done it all the time, but right now he was feeling very inadequate in comparison to those aborigines. 

Damn puny fire, McCoy thought as he looked at its slightly flickering flames. Yet it represented safety and home to them. He sat with his back against the back wall of the overhang and his feet pointed toward the fire. All the luxuries of home. A full belly (a protein bar and cactus candy washed down with a couple swallows of water) and a solar blanket. Crude Twentieth Century technology! Both the blanket and the food! But McCoy was happy that they had what they did have. It was better than a snowdrift, as he understood some Midwesterners used to say out on the farm.

He’d give anything for a drink of hard liquor right now. It would help to settle him down for the night. Funny, he hadn’t thought about alcohol until just now. He’d been too busy trying to get the most basic sort of camp established for them to even miss his whiskey. Sometimes he wondered if he drank just because it was something to do. Sometimes he’d look at a bottle he’d been nursing and wonder how the level on it had gone down so far and he hadn’t noticed. Hell, he didn’t even like whiskey, but drinking was just a crutch. Right now, he had so many other problems on his mind that he couldn‘t dwell on alcohol.

He glanced at Spock who huddled nearby under the other solar blanket. McCoy knew that the Vulcan was probably chilling and was maybe even wracked with fever. McCoy had poured as much available medicine as he dared down Spock, but didn’t know if that would be enough for him to survive. Spock needed more food than a protein bar and cactus candy and more water than a few sips. Hell, the medicine would burn up his kidneys without adequate water. And Spock needed protein, animal protein, and a lot of it. Yeah, Spock was vegetarian, but his system needed power, not only to survive but to prosper. His body had a helluva fight ahead of it if Spock was going to make it. The Vulcan needed to eat animal flesh, as much as McCoy could get down him. Spock might have to put aside some of his high-flown principles if he wanted to live. In McCoy’s mind, a backsliding vegetarian was better than a dead food purist. Of Spock, it shouldn’t be said that “he made a lovely corpse. He died vegetarian. There was not one drop of animal protein in his depleted system.

McCoy apparently dozed, for when he next opened his eyes, the stars he’d been able to see had shifted. The only trouble was, there was more of them now, so that meant that the puny fire had gone out. He glanced down at his feet. Yep, dead out.

But cold hadn’t been what had awakened him. Some noise had disturbed him. Then he heard it again. A soft whimper, like something in pain. What the hell?! Something was suffering somewhere close by, but there was nothing around here except him and Spock.

He hoped.

If some carnivore had been stalking them, it would have roared in challenge, not whimpered in defeat. No, this was something else. Something close.

Then he knew what it was, or rather who it was. Spock. He must be freezing to death, because his teeth were chattering. McCoy could hear the racket clearly now.

Oh, hell.

“Spock.”

Nothing.

“Spock.”

Still nothing.

“Oh, hell.” Dragging his blanket with him, McCoy crawled to where Spock lay shaking. “Spock.”

Still nothing.

McCoy manually grabbed Spock upright and sat back down with his back leaning against the wall again. He grimaced from the bruises on his back, but with determination he dragged Spock across his lap and pulled Spock’s body up against himself. Something in Spock sensed a heat source, and he was drawn forward to huddle against McCoy’s chest. McCoy pulled both solar blankets around Spock and tucked the ends behind his own shoulders as best he could. He now had Spock in a cocoon of solar blanket and McCoy’s own body.

Feeling McCoy’s warmth, Spock curled into him with a sigh and snuggled his face against McCoy’s chest. “Yeah, yeah,” McCoy muttered. “Just like a rooting little piggy looking for his mama‘s sugar titty, aren‘t you? Well, sorry about that. I can‘t accommodate you.” Wish I could, McCoy thought. Then maybe he could be offering nourishment to Spock as well as body heat. Well, at least he could provide the warmth, he thought as he pulled his arms tighter around Spock.

It was like embracing an ice cube, but McCoy held onto Spock. Eventually, the Vulcan stopped his aimless rooting and shaking and whimpering and began to draw in the deeper breaths of a genuine, healing slumber. He was truly resting.

McCoy grinned as he looked down at the face barely discernible in the moonlight. All he could truly see was part of the forehead, one eye with accompanying eyebrow, and the top of one well-chiseled cheekbone. But it was enough to identify Spock. McCoy would’ve known Spock anywhere. 

McCoy idly wandered if Spock could likewise identify him that easily. The doctor always felt that he registered to Spock as moveable furniture with little other emotional attachment than the Vulcan would have given to most upholstered sofas or four-drawer chests.

“Don’t you smother on me, Vulcan,” McCoy said softly. “I don’t want to wake up holding a dead man in my arms. I wouldn‘t take kindly to it if you went and died on me while I‘m asleep. That wouldn‘t be showing any sort of gratitude on your part, at all.”

It must have been the gentle, soothing voice because Spock smiled sweetly in his sleep and rubbed his face against the fabric of McCoy’s tunic. He sighed deeply and seemed almost… contended!

“I’ll be damn,” McCoy muttered in wonder as a grin tickled his lips. “You’re no greater than any other man now, are you? Needing warmth and companionship just like any other guy. Why in the hell do you always act like you’re an emotionless robot? People would like you more if you showed a little more vulnerability, did you know that? Let people know that you need them. Is that so much to ask? Stop treating me like I’m invisible. I’m here. And right now, I‘m the best option you‘ve got. Hell, I‘m the only option you‘ve got.”

McCoy stopped talking. Where had all of that come from? Why was he giving relationship advice to an unconscious person who couldn’t hear him? Did McCoy believe that Spock would listen to him better asleep?

And why had McCoy gone from the general ‘people’ to ‘me?’ Spock might’ve listened to a speech about people in general, but McCoy figured that he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with McCoy.

 

When McCoy awoke, the sun was just coming up and reflected on the nearby mountains. It was the first peaceful look that he’d seen of their new home, and at the moment it seemed very comforting. The vista before them was very rocky, and McCoy saw that they didn’t have much of a front yard before it suddenly plunged down into space. It was a good thing that they had used caution, when they finally came to their senses and stopped fighting each other.

What he could see of the surrounding rock, it was red. Apparently iron based and dry, so the Vulcan should feel right at home with the red desert before them.

Speaking of the Vulcan, McCoy wondered how Spock had fared the night. McCoy could feel the warm body in his arms, so he knew that Spock was alive. And apparently still asleep, or he would surely have pushed out of McCoy’s arms by now, if awake.

McCoy managed to work one hand up and gently pulled the blanket away from his neck. McCoy had left room for fresh air circulation, but it was still probably awfully stuffy down where Spock was. Tucked in as well as he had been, Spock probably had inhaled a lot of carbon dioxide rich air and a lot of McCoy’s scent toward morning. But if that was his chief complaint, then he was lucky. At least he had survived the night, and he would probably be suffering all sorts of adverse conditions by now if it hadn’t been for McCoy’s body heat. McCoy probably had saved him from all sorts of ills from pneumonia on down to simple muscular pain.

“Hi. How you doing down there?” McCoy murmured to the sleeper. “You look cozy as hell. Just like my little papoose. Glad that you liked the accommodations. Best room in town, all for your sleeping pleasure.”

McCoy felt a soft grin go across his face. The Vulcan looked a whole lot better than last night. Sleep and warmth had helped a lot. Water and nourishment would plump up his face and take away that slackness from his skin. Sustenance and more rest would give him needed strength. Now, the trick was to find what Spock needed in those areas.

Spock stirred slightly. The light was probably bothering him.

Then McCoy realized that Spock would be disturbed by more than the sunshine if he awakened and found himself held snugly in McCoy’s arms. With as much caution as he could muster, McCoy untangled himself from Spock and laid him gently on the ground with both solar blankets draped over him. Then he quickly left their shelter and greeted the day.

First, he had to find a spot to relieve himself. As he watched the golden spray soak into the ground, he wondered if he should have saved his concentrated urine to change it into drinkable water. Too late now. And it would’ve taken more purifying tablets than normal, even if he‘d had any at his disposal. Next time he crawled into a shuttle he would have desalinating tablets, some kind of food beside protein bars, and a gallon of water apiece for everyone on the shuttle. He didn’t care if they were going only ten feet, all of those supplies were going next time.

That is, if there was a next time.

Spock needed water and he needed nourishment, or he would die. Simple as that. No frills, no ifs, ands, or buts. Life. Or death. And it was up to McCoy to make the difference. And damn it, he was going to do it! To prove it to that damn, aggravating Vulcan, if nothing else. 

McCoy frowned.

To prove it to himself.

That damn, aggravating, SILENT Vulcan. And now that Spock was quiet, McCoy was wishing he was vocal. He was wishing that Spock was awake, alive, and being a hard-assed aggravation.

For Jim Kirk.

For himself.

For McCoy.

McCoy needed Spock alive. He sure as hell couldn’t argue with a dead man. He couldn’t talk with a dead man. He couldn’t visit with a dead man. He couldn’t tell a dead man about his daughter, about his growing up in Georgia, about his dedication to medicine. About, oh, so many things that he suddenly wished to share with Spock.

But why would Spock even listen? Why would he want someone to talk to just so he could hear the sound of another human voice, as McCoy suddenly did.

McCoy took a reconnaissance of their world, looking for a water source and edible foodstuffs. At first glance, nothing much was to be offered. Then he saw what appeared to be an old stream bed. Water had flowed on this planet at some time. Maybe it still did. And there was still the idea that green vegetation had to be growing somewhere, because the oxygen was so good on this planet. Where green plants were growing, that surely meant that some of them contained edible food products.

His first priority was Spock, so he decided to check on his status. As McCoy approached their makeshift camp, he could see that Spock was just awakening. Spock had no idea that he had spent the night sleeping in McCoy’s arms, so McCoy decided not to share that knowledge.

“Good morning.”

Spock looked up at him and squinted in the sunlight.

“How are you feeling?” McCoy asked as he stopped a few feet away. There was no sense to alarm the Vulcan by getting too close to him.

“I am stiff and sore,” Spock finally answered as he gingerly moved his complaining body.

“Do you know who I am this morning?”

Spock looked at McCoy as if he was crazy. “Yes.”

“Who?” McCoy grinned. “Rumpelstiltskin?”

Spock really looked puzzled. “You are Dr. Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer on the Starship Enterprise.”

McCoy held up two fingers. “How many of these do you see?”

“Two. Doctor, why are you doing this questioning?”

“I didn’t know if you had a concussion. You were a little confused last night.”

“I believe that I still am.”

McCoy frowned. “Oh?”

“I cannot seem to stand. I am too dizzy, and I need to relieve myself.”

“Oh. Well, let me help you.” He took a step forward.

Spock looked startled.

McCoy stopped. “What? Oh. Oh, no! I’m not going to do that! I won’t touch you! Not unless you want me to!”

“Just help me up.”

“I don’t know if that’s wise.”

“Please.”

How could McCoy disregard a simple plea like that? He leaned down. “Hook your arms around my neck. I know that‘s going to pull on your ribs, but we‘ll take it easy.”

Spock did as McCoy requested, and McCoy pulled him into a standing position in his arms. Spock was panting by the time he was on his feet.

“Sorry, Spock. I know that had to hurt. Okay, you can go in any direction you want. That‘s the beauty of having a planet to ourselves. We won‘t bother the neighbors.” He saw Spock’s indecisiveness. “Want to try it on your own?”

Spock shook his head.

“Let’s go over in this direction, away from our little home.” He led Spock around a corner. “We’re close to a ledge here. Just aim it over the edge. Need some help?”

Spock shook his head, and McCoy tried not to watch Spock fumbling with himself. McCoy knew how humiliating this had to be for the Vulcan. He also knew he was going to have to find proper toilet facilities for them soon.

“Finished?”

Spock nodded, but did not move.

“Do you have a problem?”

Spock nodded.

McCoy started to ask, but then he knew. “Do you have to do more?”

Spock nodded his head very hard.

“I don’t know exactly what to do for you.”

“Back me up and position me over the ledge.”

“Are you crazy?! You’ll fall, ass first! Then you’ll have more to worry about than your present problems. But you’ll never have to worry about taking a dump again!”

“Please, Doctor. Just help me squat.”

So that’s what McCoy did. He knelt with his arms around Spock’s middle and with Spock’s arms around his neck. They stared each other in the eyes and tried not to hear the liquid nature of Spock’s bowel movement.

“I am sorry, Doctor,” Spock told McCoy’s grim face.

“I’m not concerned about that. A loose stool might indicate a head injury.”

“And it could indicate that I was very afraid yesterday.”

McCoy frowned at him. “Were you?”

“Yes, Doctor, I was.”

“I thought you were nerveless.”

“I knew I had to be brave for you.”

That surprised McCoy. “You did?!”

“I knew that you were very afraid and that I had to help you face it.”

“Thanks. I would’ve come completely apart if I’d known you were scared. That was very brave of you to shield me. And very considerate.”

“It helped me to focus and to fight for survival more. I was the captain of our little ship. I was responsible for someone besides myself.”

“I‘m sorry I wasn‘t any better help.”

“You rode the shuttle down with me. That was enough.“

McCoy didn’t have any other clear option, but he decided not to mention that to Spock since the Vulcan was being so magnanimous now.

“Speaking of help, Doctor, I believe that I am finished.”

“Here’s a napkin to wipe yourself. Use one hand. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.”

So there Spock hung over the sharp drop, with his left arm gripped tightly around McCoy’s neck and his right hand dabbing at his hind quarters in a vain attempt to tidy up himself. 

McCoy braced himself as best he could while squatting and hoped that his cramping legs didn’t protest the unexpected pull on their muscles. If his legs failed, it might send both of them tumbling down the hill to join Spock’s recently expelled bowel movement. Neither the fall nor the ultimate landing site offered that much temptation for McCoy.

With strength reserves he didn’t realize he had, McCoy brought not only himself but Spock to standing positions. McCoy stood weaving with Spock in his arms while his legs finally got to protest their recent abuse.

“Doctor?”

“Give me a minute,” McCoy answered. “My legs feel like rubber. The blood’s rushing back into them. I guess my leg muscles aren’t as finely toned as I thought they were. If we were on a ship on the ocean, I’d say that I had to get my sea legs back. It‘ll just take a minute. Then, I should be a whole lot better.”

A moment later, McCoy could walk without too much shakiness from his complaining legs. But McCoy wasn’t the best person to be leading around an injured man.

On the way back to their meager camp under the overhang, McCoy said, “I’ll get something better rigged up for our future calls of nature. I‘m still trying to find what our assets are around here. I guess a latrine should pretty well top our list.”

“I am sorry that I cannot help, Doctor,” Spock apologized as McCoy lowered him back down so the solar blankets were close to him. “You have so many things to do.”

“That’s alright. You just keep the home fires burning, so to speak.” He glanced closer at their overhang, then frowned in thought. “There’s an indention here I hadn’t seen before.” He studied it closer. “It seems to be the entrance to a cave. I‘ll see if there‘s anything in here that we can use. Maybe our luck just turned to the good.”

“Doctor! Do not go in there!” Spock begged in alarm.

“I won’t go far.”

“You might get hurt, and I could not help you.”

McCoy heard the fear in Spock‘s voice. “I’ll be real careful,” he reassured Spock as he inspected the opening in the rock. “Now, you just relax and I’ll see where this goes.” He looked back at Spock with a smile tugging at his lips. “I guess it’s my turn to be telling you to relax, isn’t it?” 

Spock visibly tried to relax, and McCoy appreciated the effort.

McCoy touched his sore chin and grinned. “I promise I won’t sock you, though. Even if it is tempting.”

At that, Spock did relax more, but his eyes were still guarded. McCoy couldn’t give him any further reassurances than that. McCoy did not know what awaited him in that cave. But McCoy did have to explore their world, however hazardous that might prove to be. 

And it would be difficult for Spock to wait for his return. For even after McCoy disappeared inside the crack in the side of the wall, Spock continued to look at the spot anxiously.

Would he ever see the doctor again, or would he be left to die alone on this desolate world?


	7. Chapter 7

McCoy entered the shadowy cave. There seemed to be some light source from above, and he glanced up to see occasional holes in the roof of the cave. But he was still glad that he had a flashlight. The cave floor was fairly smooth, so that was another plus. Their luck was definitely turning. Now, if Jim Kirk and the Enterprise was around the next corner, McCoy would figure that their luck was complete.

Instead, what he saw when he turned that corner was almost better than Jim Kirk and the Enterprise. There was a pool of water and enough current to indicate that the water was fresh and not stagnant. It even smelled good.

McCoy fell to his knees, and without thinking, took a big gulp of the water. So much for testing for water purity or adverse conditions in it. If he was a dead man, he might as well get it over. He knew it was rash, he knew it was stupid, he knew it was inconsiderate of Spock who was waiting anxiously for his return. But he was thirsty, and sometimes perfectly bright people do chancy things. McCoy figured that he was due. Besides, he had no way of testing the water and no water purifying tablets with him. A shuttle, that for some reason had been fortuitous enough to include a flashlight in its meager supplies, did not include water purifying tablets.

McCoy had watched Spock drink the last of the water moments ago, and McCoy was just plain spitting cotton now. He hadn’t had a drink of water since last night and the sight of all of this liquid refreshment before him had been too much. He indulged like a glutton. Nothing had ever tasted better to his thirsty throat, not even the finest Kentucky bourbon. No, this Adam’s ale that was before him now was the greatest drink in the universe! And if he was going to die from drinking it, at least he would die with his thirst slaked. 

He sat back on his haunches and waited to see if he lived or died. In the meantime, he could feel the spirit of the water surging through him to his fingertips. The cool water itself made a welcome trail down his throat and headed for his stomach. So far, so good.

When he figured it was safe to try more, he leaned down and drank his fill. Never was water so tasty! It could almost replace whiskey as his favorite drink.

Almost.

Now that his thirst was appeased, he was beginning to be realize that he’d been hasty in his rash decision about water over whiskey.

Then, for some reason, he thought of the old song: If I’m not with the one I love, I love the one I’m with. He reconsidered the pool of water, and his face broke out in a grin.

Darling! My own true love! I love thy shimmering depths! Let me taste thy tempting wares!

He went for the water again and got it all over himself. He slung his head back and shook water off himself like a happy Basset. Best sex that he’d had in awhile, he decided. Perfectly orgasmic and titillating satisfying.

Finally, he decided to act like an adult with responsibilities. Spock was waiting. He filled the water bottle and took it back to Spock.

“You found water?” Spock asked when he saw water running down McCoy’s arm from the bottle and dripping off his elbow. Spock stared hard at the sight as his tongue touched his dry lips.

“And it’s close, Spock!” McCoy answered as he squatted and handed the bottle to Spock. “And it’s good. Or I’m on my way to dying.”

Spock took the water bottle and raised it to his lips.

McCoy frowned. “Hold it! Aren’t you going to see first if it kills me?”

“I do not want to be the only living person on this planet.”

Well, that answered that question, and McCoy couldn’t agree more. Now he knew that Spock’s thinking was the same as his: if one of them died, the other would quickly follow, by choice if not by circumstance. They were social animals and needed the presence of the other to survive. Ergo, they would keep the other one alive to insure their own preservation. You can‘t get any more basic than that.

Spock drank. The pleasure of the cool drink registered on his face, and McCoy enjoyed seeing Spock’s pleasure. It satisfied McCoy that he could at least keep them hydrated.

“That is very good water, Doctor.”

“Yes. I know. It’s so pure. There’s no pollutants. And we were both very thirsty. We haven’t drunk much liquids, so that will be a big project for us today. We have to hydrate ourselves. Dehydration causes all sorts of wicked problems, including strange behavior.“

“It might have caused some of my panic yesterday.“

“And mine,“ McCoy put in to soften Spock’s breakthrough about his own behavior. “I know I was drinking mainly alcohol before we left the Portus.“

“And I had been too busy to even grab lunch. That oversight has haunted me. I keep envisioning steaming bowls of rice with all sorts of vegetable sauces to pour over them. And platters piled high with luscious fresh fruit and bowls of crackers to eat with everything.“

McCoy smiled. “Back on the Enterprise, we were going to have a sit-down meal with Kirk while he debriefed us. It would’ve been a social occasion for all of us.“ McCoy breathed deeply. “Jim and I would’ve probably had broiled steak topped with broiled mushrooms. That’s one of Jim’s favorites, and I certainly wouldn’t turn it aside right now.” He smirked. “And you’d be sitting on the side all smug with your healthy vegetables and fruit which I’m certain you would have shared.”

“I would have been very patient with my tolerance of your first-class protein tastes. I know how steak and mushrooms pleases Jim. I would have enjoyed his pleasure.” He frowned. “I wonder if the Captain remembered to eat yesterday?“

“Jim Kirk?! Especially after we went missing?!“ McCoy guffawed at the idea. “He probably inhaled anything that wasn’t nailed down, or wasn’t already in somebody else’s mouth!“ Then he sobered. “Or he’s forgotten to eat all together.“ McCoy bit his lips together. “Or can’t.“

“The Captain will be very upset.”

“He will be frantic! Losing one of us would put a big hole in his life. But losing both of us?! At the same time?! He might never recover.” McCoy glanced at Spock. “So we have to stay alive, don’t we? For Jim? Because, if we die, he dies. It wouldn‘t be obvious with him, but it would kill him, all the same.”

Spock took the vow, also. “For Jim. Because it would kill him if we do not come back to him.”

“That’s right. So we have a job to do, don’t we?“ How come McCoy felt like a cheerleader cheering the underdogs to victory? But, sometimes a person had to be reminded. You had to think of the people you would hurt by leaving.

“You rest now, Spock, and get more of that water down you. And don‘t worry about me losing out on it. I‘m going back into the cave, to the pool itself, and try to drink that dry.” He grinned, then sobered. “Maybe I‘ll have better luck with water than with alcohol. More alcohol always seemed to show up. Besides, I want to check out something I think I saw in the cave. I’ll be right back.”

“What are you going to do, besides drinking water?”

He grabbed one of the solar blankets. “I’m going grocery shopping.”

He left the puzzled Vulcan and reentered the cave. Back at the water pool, he looked around and saw what he thought he’d seen. A forest of lichen on the walls. Light from above in the ceiling and the water on the floor of the cave had proven to be all that the lichen had needed to thrive. And now that same lichen would help keep Spock and him alive. He hoped.

McCoy gathered a mess of the lichen. He didn’t want to gobble. This might be their only foodstuff, and hard telling how long they would have to be here. So he had to start conserving, as of today.

But first he had to prepare their delicacy and then convince both of them that this was delicious fare. It may prove to be inedible, but he understood that lichen soup was very nutritious. But like standing on the Sun or singing grand opera, he never figured he would be eating it. Some things a guy just assumes he’ll never do, and those would be three on McCoy’s list, if he ever made such a list.

Right now, McCoy would trade all of the lichen in the cave for one food synthesizer from the Enterprise. As much as he despised replicated food, he would be willing to sit down to a meal of it right now. And he knew Spock would be, also.

McCoy appeared with his bounty in his laden blanket, and Spock looked interested.

“What do you have, Doctor?”

“Dinner!” McCoy announced as he dumped the blanket. “Now, I just have to cook it!“

He looked around for a rock with a nice, deep hollow in it. After locating what he needed, he started a fire and threw rocks into it. He set the hollowed out rock near the fire and poured a little water in it. Then he busied himself with breaking up some of the lichen.

Spock, by this time, was very curious, indeed. Curious by nature and always wanting to learn, he found himself drawn to what McCoy was doing and in the process starting healing himself by going beyond himself.

“What are you doing with the lichen, Doctor?”

“Magic! You won’t believe what I can create!” He hoped that the Vulcan had more faith in him than he had in himself. But he had to try something.

He put hot rocks in the water and let them heat the water. Luckily, he had a piece of metal that he had torn off the shuttle to transfer the hot rocks. (He hoped Starfleet didn’t prosecute him too much for defacing property, but he hoped that he had a good reason for doing so.)

He took cooling rocks out of the water and added some of the lichen. Then more hot rocks went in. Finally, McCoy was satisfied with his concoction. He passed a steaming cup to Spock.

“Dig in! Dinner!”

“It smells good.”

“Well, of course! It’s the soup of the day! Lichen ala McCoy!”

“It sounds like something served only in the finest French restaurants.”

McCoy could see that Spock was relaxed and almost enjoying himself. That made McCoy feel good.

McCoy tried his soup. “Not bad. Salt would help it.”

“I find that it is quite delicious, Doctor. And a welcome change from the protein bars and cactus candy.”

“We do have a few of them left, so we can have some variety to our diet.”

“Is there a lot of lichen in the cave?”

“Quite a bit, but I’m going to conserve it. There might be other things around to eat, too. But lichen is a start.”

“A good start, Doctor.”

“And I’m going to have to find another way to make fire. The supply of matches I found in the Aquinas won’t last forever.”

“This planet appears to be like most others: fire-born. Volcanoes must have dotted the area at one time, because the rock around us is igneous.”

“I’ve seen feldspar lying on the ground, so that indicates igneous,” McCoy supplied.

“And we know the planet has water, since you found a pool in the cave.”

“And I saw a dry stream bed earlier when I was out doing reconnaissance.”

Spock and McCoy glanced at each other. They knew what they were both hinting at, but were almost too superstitious to mention it for jinxing the outcome.

“That means that there is the possibility of sedimentary rock in the area, Doctor.”

“With the further possibility of the presence of flint.”

“From which we can make fire,” Spock added.

“By striking flint against steel! And we have a whole shuttle full of steel!”

“Now, you just need to find the flint.”

McCoy smiled. “This planet has been mighty accommodating to us so far.” He glanced around and surprised himself by saying, “Some people might look on this world as a dry desert. It’s beginning to be the land of opportunity for us.”

“Now you may be able to see the charm of my native Vulcan.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Well, I’ll take a grove of live oaks dipping long branches into the frog pond on the lower end of the south pasture any day, but we gotta take what we got now and utilize it.”

“That we do, Doctor,” Spock said.

McCoy hauled himself to his feet. “Well, I’ve gone from space doctor to spelunker in a matter of hours. Guess I might as well add rock hound to my new array of occupations.”

“I wish that I could help, Doctor.”

“You are. You’re keeping me from going mad, and that’s a helluva tough job. I should know. Then, too, you have to be here in case our rescuers show up and wonder where I am.”

Spock looked up into the sky over them. “Do you believe that they are out there, Doctor, and looking for us?”

McCoy glanced into the sky, also. “Oh, I believe that they are looking for us, alright. But it’s a helluva big universe. We could be anywhere.” He had to get the Vulcan’s thinking off that subject. “So you think that this planet looks like Vulcan?”

Spock turned back with a look of gratitude. “Yes. All of the red rocks and the barrenness looks so familiar.”

McCoy tried to see the landscape through Spock’s eyes as he looked around. “I can almost see what you mean.” He looked back. “Wanna call it ‘Vulcan?’”

“There is only one Vulcan, for real and in my heart. No. I believe that this is Paradise. We will call it ‘Paradise.’”

McCoy managed a mocking laugh. “Paradise?! I don’t know if I would go that far!”

“I would, Doctor. It has sustained us so far.”

McCoy nodded sagely. “You’re right.” He slapped his thighs. “Well, ‘hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go!’ The meager supplies I‘m finding in the Aquinas won‘t last us very long. I have to find us more.”

Spock looked puzzled. “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go?” he repeated.

“The Seven Dwarfs. It’s the song they sang as they went to their jobs in the mines. I think that it’s appropriate as I’ll be dealing in rocks, also.”

“Seven Dwarfs?”

“Snow White’s little buddies, the guys who rescued her, like I did you.”

“You are now a dwarf?”

“That’s right, Snow White! Now, get some rest!”

McCoy grinned to himself. Spock was pulling McCoy’s leg? Spock could tease?! Because, surely, his mother would have read ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ to him.

Despite everything, Spock was apparently enjoying himself. And, damn it, so was McCoy! It was better than his blotched shore leave because his troubles were truly behind him. There was nothing he could do about anything, because there was no way in the universe that he could possibly do anything about anything that did not involve this planet. This was his world. His and Spock’s. Period. 

It might well be the only thing that they had left of life. And that might not last very long, either, if he did not find flint.

He put his head down and became a rock hound in Paradise.

 

That night they sat beside a crackling fire. McCoy had found not only flint but scrubby bushes with berries resembling wrinkly blueberries. Several dead bushes were now providing fodder for the jolly flames. It hadn’t dawned on McCoy until he was on his expedition that he also had to find some sort of flammable material to ignite. He might come back to the overhang with ten pounds of flint, but it would’ve been useless without something to burn. Then McCoy had seen the berry bushes.

Now, McCoy and Spock had fire and berries and lichen soup and sweet water to wash it all down. What could be better than this?

“This is all very good, Doctor,” Spock said as he shoveled soup into his waiting mouth.

And McCoy could see that Spock was improving with the simple food. That made McCoy feel very expansive.

“It’s food fit for a king, Spock. And as they say at the castle, ‘I wonder what the poor people are eating?’”

“The poor people?”

“Yes, indeed, because that surely can’t be us.”

“Of course, Doctor.”

McCoy looked out across the flames at the gathering twilight. “This is really peaceful, you know it? We should start a resort here, where people could come to really relax.”

“They would bring their problems with them and be frustrated that this out of the way place was hampering them from trying to deal with their problems.”

“Not if we took all of their communication devices away from them.”

“Doctor!”

“And the only food was what they managed to find for themselves.”

“Doctor, they would perish!”

“We’re surviving, aren’t we?”

“Everyone is not us.”

McCoy experienced a sudden swelling of pride. “That’s right! Well, there goes that dream! Forget that easy million!”

“There would still be a benefit.”

“What’s that?”

“We would be saving the planet from the hordes. It would be ours exclusively.”

“You’re right,” McCoy agreed as he looked around. “I wouldn’t want to share this world with anyone. Well, maybe Jim. And Scotty.”

“And the others on the Enterprise."

"Then, someone is bound to leak the location to the rest of Starfleet! This would be a hub for traffic! ” He threw up his hands. “Well, there went the neighborhood!”

“I would not mind sharing, Doctor. I share with you, and I find that I like that quite well.”

“I like sharing with you quite well, also, Spock. Well, let’s turn in! We’ve had quite a productive day for our first one on ‘Paradise.’ And here’s to a better tomorrow!”

They went to sleep with full bellies and contentment in their hearts, and their feet to the fire. McCoy was ready to hold Spock in his arms all night again, if that was what was required for the Vulcan to rest. Anything to keep the Vulcan alive. McCoy was adamant that the population of ‘Paradise’ stay at least two.

But Spock curled up under his solar blanket, so McCoy did, also.

Deep in the night, however, McCoy awoke to the animal sounds of Spock whimpering. He didn’t even think about it, but rolled toward Spock and gathered him into his arms. Spock sighed in contentment and immediately fell into a deeper sleep.

Each night, McCoy gathered Spock to him earlier and earlier until they did not even go through the sham of not sleeping together. McCoy was finding that he could not sleep, anyway, without the Vulcan snugly in his arms. So, it became part of their routine. When evening fell, they rolled together and slept in utter contentment. At last they had the formula for a good night’s sleep: two solar blankets and two bodies. That combination couldn’t be beaten. 

At least, not on their Paradise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Father's Day to fathers everywhere today! A scene in this chapter is dedicated to the men who guide(d) us in childhood to become adults. We are not perfect because they were not perfect, but that is okay. They tried, and that is what's important.

“Look what I’ve got for you, Spock.” McCoy said with excitement as he bent down so Spock could see what McCoy had in his gathering cup.

Spock looked a little disgusted as he peered inside. “Worms?”

“Grubs."

"Where did you find them?"

"Well, you know I’ve been watering our blueberries so the fruit is plumping up, nice and tender.”

“Yes.”

“I got to digging very carefully down around the roots, and I found these grubs. They’ll be full of protein.”

“Protein?”

“Yes, Spock, you need protein. I’m going to cook these little critters right now,” McCoy said as he dumped the grubs into their hollowed out rock.

“Will the grubs suffer?”

Oh, boy, the vegetarian is speaking. Next, he’ll have the tree huggers arising and taking my scalp, McCoy thought.

“Everything suffers, Spock. I suspect that these little critters are low in the food chain around here. There’s probably some animal eating grubs that I just haven’t come across yet. The worldview of grubs is a lot more limited than say that of a mouse’s or a jackrabbit’s. I can sneak up on these grubs a whole lot easier.”

“I do not know if I can eat an animal, Doctor.”

“I don’t like the idea, myself. These little guys are just trying to exist, just like us. But what if they were put here to help us to exist? The Bible says that all creatures and plants were put in our lives for our purpose. So, Spock, I’m going to eat this food, and I want you to eat, also. Because it’s our job to survive, together. Got that?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Spock agreed miserably.

“Now, try our little treat.”

“Grubs.”

“Yes. Grubs.”

“Alright,” Spock said gamely. He made a face as he ate the grubs, but he ate.

McCoy made a face, also, but he knew that Spock would not eat if he didn’t. Once again, it was a standoff. They either both ate and lived, or both passed up the grubs and died. One would not abstain without the other. And they were both stubborn enough to make sure that the other one lived.

They ate.

 

They had wondered if it ever rained in the area, and one day they got that question answered as they watched rain clouds gather over the distant jagged hills and then begin to roll in their direction.

“I believe that it is going to rain, Doctor.” Spock narrowed his eyes. “And it looks as if it might be quite heavy.”

“We won’t have much protection. The cave could offer some shelter, but most of the ceiling is open to the sky.”

“Well, I suppose I was meant to see the cave at some time, so this is the day I finally inspect our lichen forest and our municipal water facilities.”

"Or, to put it another way, any old port in a storm! Come on, Spock, before we get too wet!" McCoy grabbed their solar blankets and led Spock through the indention of their overhand into the interior of the cave just as the rain outside began in earnest.

Spock looked around him. “It is a wonderland in here.”

“I thought you’d like it. Let’s stand over here out of the rain.” After a few moments, he held his hand out. “That rain is warm.”

“It has a nice feel to it. I would like to bathe in it.”

“Baths! We need baths! And the rain would be a perfect opportunity! We can clean ourselves and our clothes! Leave your boots in here, and let’s go back outside, Vulcan! You’ve been getting a little ripe lately!”

Outside, they stripped off their dirty clothes.

“Beat your clothing on the rocks! It won’t be perfect, but we’ll get our clothes cleaner than they were! And we’ll have water running over ourselves! It’ll be almost like having a real shower! Then, when the rain quits, we’ll dry in the sun and change into fresh clothing while our wet clothing dries! At least our luggage was good for one thing! Clothing! And now we’ll be all spiffy! We’ll feel spruced up for the Saturday Night Dance or to attend the wedding of the year!”

Spock recognized McCoy’s expansive feelings, and indeed, their shower party had an air of festivities about it. At the end of the rain, they were a whole lot cleaner and felt better afterwards. They even slept better.

Neither mentioned what they had noticed about each other’s naked body. They were both painfully thin and emaciated looking. In fact, they were starting to look gaunt and like skeletons with skin stretched over them.

 

Spock needed more protein than the occasional handful of grubs. McCoy could tell that Spock was gradually failing. Either his injuries or lack of exercise or poor nutrition or a combination of the three was dragging him down. McCoy was even having to escort him to their makeshift toilet, and he knew that Spock hated that loss of independence.

McCoy had found an edible root that reminded him of carrots, and that quickly became a favorite with him and Spock. The carrots’ sweetness added a depth of flavor to soups, and almost took the place of dessert when roasted. Also, there was mint and a type of thyme scattered around, and those became everyday salads for the visitors. But that still wasn’t protein.

McCoy couldn’t catch the quick, little sage mice he’d seen scampering around the blueberries. The mice liked the moist earth and plumper blueberries, also. ‘Sage’ was just a name that McCoy had dubbed them. McCoy had no idea if sagebrush truly grew on this planet.

Then one day as McCoy was gathering water, he noticed tiny organisms darting about in the water. Why hadn’t he seen them before? What were they? They looked liked swimming bugs. Something new for the dinner plates? Well, why not? The guys were already eating grubs. Water bugs would at least be different. But water bugs generally hopped across the top of water. These critters were swimming, swimming beneath the water. McCoy looked closer.

Shrimp. Some sort of tiny shrimp. McCoy thought of shrimp sauce, and his mouth watered. These shrimp would get lost in shrimp sauce.

He scooped some up with a bottle of water and hurried back to start cooking while Spock watched with interest. He knew that McCoy was excited, even though he said nothing. Spock had been around him long enough to be quite acquainted with his moods and reactions. He knew he would learn McCoy’s exciting news in time.

“Alright, Spock, you’ve eaten grubs, and the vegetarian god hasn’t struck you down. What do you think about shrimp?”

“Shrimp?”

“I know that’s quite a ways up the animal kingdom ladder from grubs, but you’ve got to have the protein.”

Spock understood the message: eat or die quicker. “I suppose I will go to vegetarian hell no quicker for eating shrimp than grubs. Besides, they smell good.”

“Good. Now, eat up. I don’t know if this is just a breeding cycle with them and they’ll go away, but we’re going to have shrimp while we can. Do you need help?”

“I will be okay. You eat your shrimp, also, Doctor.”

Well, Spock wouldn’t die today, McCoy thought. But the Vulcan really needed medical treatment. McCoy could do so much for Spock if only they were back on the Enterprise and in his sickbay with all of those shining instruments and healing pills and potions at his disposal. He could work a minor miracle on the Vulcan then.

He did not realize that he was working a minor miracle right now by keeping them both alive.

 

“Did you ever have hard feelings against your father because he didn’t protect you more when you were growing up?”

The two of them had been talking that afternoon, and the discussion had drifted onto parents. McCoy hated that he had asked the direct question almost as soon as it left his lips, but the damage was done now. Spock had been gradually opening up to him, and now McCoy figured that he had lost major ground with that one thoughtless question.

Spock didn’t answer at first, and McCoy was about to retract his question when Spock finally spoke.

“I did when I was a child, but now I realize that he was toughening me up. He knew I would forever face adversity because of my split heritage, so he was teaching me how to cope with the shame and the hatred. He taught me that I could not expect others to change for my benefit.”

“Shame? You should have no shame. You were an innocent, little baby. A blessing to your parents, and not something to be ashamed of. You brought joy and a completeness into their lives. Why are you grinning?! What did I say that was so funny?!”

“That was not a grin, Doctor. It was a grimace. My mother tried to be a mother to me when was she was concerned primarily with my father. I was not a joy or a completeness to their marriage. I was a byproduct.”

“You poor bastard!” McCoy breathed, then caught himself. “I mean that in the sincerest way possible.”

Spock’s eyes twinkled. “I am not offended, Doctor. In fact, I am delighted. Contrary to what you may think, I hold no belligerence toward my parents. I realize that in his own way, my father loves me. He was something of a rebel, you see. He married my mother because he fell in love with her. Can you imagine how revolutionary that was for a Vulcan to do? Generally, they get caught up in pon farr every seven years and are compelled to mate. But my father chose. And from the way I am understanding it, he is still choosing to mate with my mother." He gave McCoy a genuine grin. "Any chance they can get.”

“You sure are a well-adjusted bastard about the whole mess.”

“Maybe it is because I have Death staring me in the face and might never see my parents again, but I have no ill feelings against them. They were about as prepared as any other couple to raise a child.”

And then McCoy asked something that suddenly seemed very important to McCoy. “Do you think that my own daughter could ever view me in as generous of a way as you view your father?”

Spock glanced at him for the first time. “Yes, Doctor, I do. You are concerned and are trying. In her heart, Joanna knows that. It isn’t the success that is important to her or to any other child. It is the trying.”

And just by hearing those words, McCoy knew that Spock was right. Maybe Spock had been sent to say those words to him, as he had before. And McCoy thanked whomever had done the sending, but he had a hunch he already knew.

 

“Well, that’s one thing we won’t eat again!” McCoy vowed as he held onto his roiling stomach and waited his turn at their toilet facilities. “IF we’re ever able to eat again, that is!”

Spock moaned as he bent at his waist. He had eaten more of the exotic bulbs because the flavor had been so wonderful and he had been so hungry.

“Red onions are okay, but yellow onions raise supreme hell!” McCoy averred. 

Spock grudgingly moved so McCoy could relieve himself, and it was only a moment too soon.

“They had tasted so good going down,” Spock murmured.

“I’d say to avoid them completely, but we’ll never have to wonder what to take if we ever get constipated.”

“That proves that there is a use for everything. And now, if you are quite finished, Doctor, I believe that I must take another turn again.”

 

“What do you have there, Doctor?” Spock asked as he looked at the stick in McCoy’s hand.

“I found this a little ways up the dry riverbed. There’s been trees on this planet at one time. Maybe in the hills upstream from where I found this dead limb. Maybe’s there still trees up in those hills. There could be fruit growing on them! Maybe there's game in the area! I must see someday.”

“Do not go too far, Doctor. If you get injured, I will not know. I need you here by twilight, or I will worry.”

“I know, Spock. That’s why I’m saying ‘someday’ about exploring up in those distant hills. By then, you may be able to go with me.”

“I could not go far now.”

“I know. You’re weak. And you’re still healing. But you need a little exercise and some independence.” And a way of getting around and caring for yourself, in case something happens to me, McCoy thought, but didn’t voice that idea out-loud. “That’s why I thought you could use this stick as a cane.”

“Is it strong enough?” Spock asked with a worried face.

“I believe so. Here. Try it. I’ll help you.”

McCoy helped him up. Spock tried a few shaky steps on his own. A pleased look crossed his face. 

“This is wonderful, Doctor,” Spock said as he tried a tight circle, then some steps further away.

“Careful, now. Don't get too exuberant.”

Spock was elated. “This is wonderful,” he repeated.

“Careful,” McCoy clucked again, like an old mother hen.

“Let us go for a walk, Doctor.”

“A stroll on a Sunday afternoon? Sure! Why not?!”

“Is it Sunday, Doctor?” Spock asked as he took tiny steps.

“It is, if we say it is,” McCoy said beside him. “Our planet, our rules.”

“That is true, Doctor.”

“Just think. Now you can go to the shitter whenever you want. You won’t have to wait for me.”

“Doctor, could we not call that place by the vulgar term which you have deemed it?”

“That’s what it is, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but we must maintain some vestiges of civilization and polite society on our planet. If we don’t, then who will?”

“You do have a point. But then, who would be around to give it that certain earthy sense of reality that the place needs?”

“You do have a point, also, Doctor.”

“And look. Here’s our milk pod plants, so you can get a handy supply of cotton fluff on your say to our--” He glanced at Spock’s humorless face. “Our outhouse, how about that?”

“Much better.”

“Well, here we are,” McCoy announced, looking around. “Our outhouse.”

And, indeed, it was out. The spot had no overhang to protect it from the elements, but neither user tried to be there any longer than necessary. A seat of sorts was notched between two narrow walls and projected over a hole. A user could only fall if he was trying to fall. And the only directions he could fall would be forward or straight backwards. Straight backwards was not recommended, because it would be into the men’s discarded body wastes.

McCoy had even provided dirt that could be scattered on the feces to cut down on odor and prevent it from attracting flies, if there were flies on this planet.

“Well, as long as we’re here, shall we use the facilities?” McCoy asked pleasantly.

“You mean, have a group, ah--”

“Yeah,” McCoy agreed with an open grin. “We'll have a group, ah.”

“I have another thought. Something I’ve always wanted to try. It is rather scandalous, though.”

“You, Spock? Are you getting daring and playful?”

“Well, I would not ask just anybody.”

“Okay. What naughty thing could possibly be on Mr. Spock’s bucket list?” McCoy was liking this game. It was fun just watching the Vulcan being so shy and ornery and just plain having fun.

“Writing my name in the snow with, you know.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing that. But as you can see, we’re fresh out of snow. There’s plenty of ‘you know‘ in us, but no snow to write on.”

“How about the side of that red cliff?” Spock asked, pointing.

McCoy shrugged. “Okay, but our masterpiece will run.”

“How about over the cliff into the valley then and watching the droplets against the sun? Maybe there would even be a rainbow. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?” Spock asked with awe in his voice.

McCoy felt something tug in his heart. The Vulcan was proposing things that five-year-old boys would normally do together as kids. How sad that he had never done those things as a five-year-old. How sad that he had never had other boys to do them with.

“How about just acting our ages and doing it normally?”

Spock smiled. “Perhaps that would be better, Doctor.”

“But sometimes it’s fun to act naughty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Doctor, it is.”

 

McCoy awoke one morning and knew something was wrong. Spock was not in his arms.

“Spock? Where are you?” he murmured as he stirred, half asleep yet.

“Do not move, Doctor,” Spock said softly. “There is a snake on your other arm.”

Then McCoy felt a movement on his arm. It was more of an undulation, as the snake’s muscles rippled to carry it forward.

McCoy whimpered.

“Do not move,” Spock cautioned again.

McCoy squeezed his eyes shut. His full attention was on that movement on his left arm.

McCoy felt Spock rise up and lean over him. In the next moment Spock’s arm flew down with tremendous force as Spock struck the snake with a rock.

Some of the blows landed partly on McCoy’s arm. Spock could not avoid striking him. McCoy tucked his face toward the ground and squeezed his eyes shut again. His welfare was completely in Spock’s hands. He felt moisture on his arm and did not know if the blood was his or the snake’s.

“Doctor? It is over. Are you alright?”

McCoy stirred. “My arm hurts.”

“Hopefully, it is just bruises. Did the snake bite you?”

“I didn’t feel anything,” McCoy answered as he sat up and grabbed his arm to look at it. “Blood, but most of it seems to be the snake’s. Thanks.”

Spock surveyed the carcass in his hands. “Nonpoisonous. It was probably just cold and seeking your warmth. I can relate.”

“Nonpoisonous? How can you tell?”

“It had round eyes, instead of cat eyes.”

“Round eyes doesn’t mean anything! It could be a viper!”

“There is no pit in front of the eyes, Doctor. If I had known for sure that it was nonpoisonous, I would not have killed it.”

“Who had time to look at its eyes?!”

“I know. That is my sorrow. It was a harmless creature.”

“Well, at least we have something to eat.”

Spock looked disgusted. “You would eat this gentle creature?”

“Hell, yes! The Lord provided! I’m not turning down a gift from Up Above!”

“The snake was high on the evolutionary ladder. The closer it is to us, the more disinclined I am to eat it.”

“We’re at the top of the evolutionary ladder, Spock! And I intend that we stay at that lofty height!” McCoy began to cut the meat into chunks.

Spock looked disgusted. “Are you going to make soup with it?”

“I was thinking of kabobs.” He paused in his work and looked at Spock. “What?! What's on your mind, now?!”

“Kabobs? Like we would get at a restaurant?”

“I don’t know if it’d be exactly like what we’d get at a restaurant, but I intend to get damn close. With those carrot-like roots I found and those starching tubers that are like potatoes, I’ll skewer this meat along with those wild red onions growing nearby."

"Not the yellow onions, though."

"Right. Not the yellow onions. I just wish I could find some plant like celery. It‘s out there! I just haven‘t located it yet! But we‘ll make-do for now, Spock! We’ll have us a feast!”

“I do not know if I will be hungry, Doctor, if snake is on the menu.”

“You will eat, or I will NOT eat! You are getting your fair share of our bounty, and you will enjoy it with a smile on your face and smacking your lips! Got it?!”

“Got it.” Spock paused as he thought about the whole situation. “You can be very mean, Doctor. And very bossy.”

“Damn straight,” McCoy muttered as he worked. “And don’t you forget it!”


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a day like any other day. 

McCoy had made his rounds with his plant gardens. He had watered and cultivated them and felt a farmer’s pride in watching their vigorous growth with his nurturing. Then he had gathered water and shrimp and vegetables for their meals to be consumed that day. 

Spock had walked about some while McCoy was doing his chores, but he did not venture far. Roundtrips to their toilet was getting to be quite an expedition for him. He tired easily and knew that he was slowly failing in strength. But he vowed he would stay strong for McCoy for as long as he was able. Even a Vulcan’s strength eventually ebbs, and Spock could feel in his bones that his time was short. He was beginning to feel the pull of the soil for him to return to it, and he knew that he would soon answer that call. There is a time when things of this life do not matter anymore, and Spock was coming close to thinking that philosophy.

He did not mind leaving this life, not for his own sake. It was what his passing would do to others. He sorrowed that he would not see his father again, and Jim Kirk. But his greatest regret would be in leaving McCoy alone. If anyone would have told him a few scant weeks ago that he would be feeling such regret now and for whom, he would have scoffed at that person. But life had changed. And Leonard McCoy was very important to him, as he knew that he was important to Leonard McCoy.

But they would not dwell on a dim future. They would rejoice for every day that they had together now. Most people do not have that wisdom to be thankful for their current blessings. For all of that, Spock was grateful.

When the sun was high in the sky, the two men ate a simple meal of watercress salad and shrimp soup. McCoy did the routine work of cleaning up after their meal. Then he sat resting beside Spock as they leaned against the wall of their overhang. Now would pass a long afternoon of dozing and chatting in the conversational shorthand that had become their custom of late. 

“Pretty today.”

“Might rain, though.”

“Clouds on the horizon.”

It didn’t matter who had said what. It was all beginning to be interchangeable now, anyway.

McCoy could feel Spock’s contentment with McCoy’s presence. He was certain that Spock was restless each day while McCoy was gone. And it wasn’t because Spock relied on McCoy for food and water. Spock did not want to be alone. He needed McCoy as he had never needed anyone else in his life. 

And that put a terrible responsibility on Leonard McCoy. For now he had to survive. And not only survive, but thrive. Because someone depended on him exclusively. McCoy had not felt this way even with his baby daughter, because there were other people in her life to pull up the slack if something happened to McCoy. But now, McCoy was it. Spock had no one else. McCoy had to live, and McCoy did not know if he could always insure that he could be present to fill that need.

Not that he minded the responsibility. It wasn’t that. But he couldn’t guarantee his presence. Stuff happens. He was only human, and humans die. They did everyday, whether they wanted to or not. Often they died for stupid, demeaning reasons. But the end result, whether noble or inglorious or generally somewhere in between, was that the person was still dead.

Spock hadn’t spoken for several moments, and a glance showed McCoy that Spock was slumped slightly with his head hanging down. McCoy grinned softly. Catnapping. Like an old man. Then McCoy looked back at the distant hills.

McCoy was wishing for the thousandth time that Jim Kirk would appear and rescue them. Just so he and Spock could get checked out and cured, and McCoy could have a better chance of taking care of Spock. That was all that he was asking. A chance for an even start. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were losing ground, especially Spock.

Come get us, Jim, he prayed. Then he scoffed. Leonard McCoy prayed to no gods, except maybe medicine. The superstitious gods of his fathers held little meaning for him, not after what he had learned in medicine and seen for himself in the universe. But, if he did believe in a higher being, he would be thankful now for their deliverance. Because he did not know how long he could hang onto Spock, and he quite frankly could not go on without the alien at his side. And then all that would be in Paradise of their ever having been here would be two skeletons bleaching in the perennial sunshine.

So, any time you want to show up, Jim Kirk, you can, McCoy thought. There ain’t no better time like the present. The Vulcan still has some juice in him. And I still might be able to save him. But don’t put off this deliverance thing too long. Because once the Vulcan goes, I won’t be too far behind him. On that, you can count! He goes, I go! That’s the deal, Kirk. Take it or leave it. You got all the cards in your hand. And, poor bastard, you don’t even know it!

And then, on the other side of their cold campfire, McCoy saw a slight motion. He looked up as a figure stepped into his line of vision. McCoy looked closer. Damn if it wasn’t Jim Kirk, just as big as life. Now McCoy was hallucinating. But if he was, it was a damn good hallucination.

McCoy blinked, shook his head, and squinted. Kirk was still there. He was smiling down at them and fighting not to cry, big baby that he could be. Jim Kirk, as if he was nothing more than an apparition conjured up at McCoy’s request. Kirk appearing out of nowhere, because McCoy was wishing so much for Jim to do just that. Why in the hell hadn’t McCoy thought to make his request earlier? It would have saved the lives of countless grubs and one cold snake.

McCoy stiffened. No, it couldn’t be Kirk. Then he read ‘Bones’ on Kirk’s lips. Not heard, but lip read. McCoy grabbed the arm of the man dozing beside him.

“Spock.”

“Hmm?”

“Spock, wake up!”

“Is it time to eat, Doctor? I believe that I am not hungry now, if it is all the same to you.”

“You will eat when I do, Vulcan! But not now. Besides, we just ate.” 

“Oh. That is why I am not hungry then.“ He turned and snuggled his face against McCoy’s accommodating arm. “Why did you awaken me? I was sleeping very nicely.“

McCoy gripped Spock’s arm harder. “Open your eyes, damn it, and look! Do you see what I see, or am I hallucinating?”

Spock looked in the direction that McCoy was staring. Spock blinked because the afternoon sun was almost in his eyes. “Captain?”

Oh, hell, Kirk has to be real! Two of us see him!

Scotty ran up. “Captain, there’s all sorts of signs that they’re here.” He looked down at what Kirk was gazing at and grinned in relief. “Captain! You found them! What a beautiful sight!”

“They are, aren’t they?” Kirk replied, finally finding his tongue.

Then there was chaos and noise, more chaos and noise than McCoy and Spock had known in many days. And their little world changed for them. It was suddenly a barren and foreign planet again, because their friends were here to show them what they had been missing in conversation and in movement and in life.

“We found the shuttle,” Kirk said as he approached McCoy.

“How?” McCoy asked.

“The tracking device was still on.”

“So that much worked,” Spock murmured, almost ignored by Kirk and McCoy.

“So did your radio. At first. We could hear your calls, Spock, but you couldn’t hear us. We knew that you had landed. We heard you in the shuttle. Then the radio went dead and didn’t come back on.”

“I turned it off,” Spock said. “To save power. Besides, I thought that nobody was receiving. It was only logical to turn off the radio.”

“But how, how did you get past the warp, or whatever we went through?” McCoy asked as Scotty and Kirk helped him to his feet. “Be careful with Spock,” he warned two red shirts who were picking Spock up on a stretcher. “He’s weak and very fragile.”

“Will he make it, Bones?” Kirk asked as the red shirts began to find their way with a stretcher through the rubble on the small path that McCoy and Spock had created.

“I’m glad you got here when you did, Jim,” McCoy said in a weak voice. Then it all came rushing at McCoy: the fear, the boredom, the solitude, the tension. He swung into Kirk and threw his arms around his captain. “You’re the answer to a prayer!” he whispered to Kirk. “For all that’s Holy, I hope you’re real!” He patted Kirk’s chest and grinned to keep from crying. “Damn it! You feel real!”

Kirk didn’t know which startled him more: McCoy’s giving in finally to his worries or his expressing a religious fervor. Kirk didn’t really know what to do for his friend who was trembling against him, so he went basic and hugged McCoy back. It proved to be the right choice. It was what McCoy needed.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kirk wanted to know with worry on his face.

“There’s several times I think that Spock would’ve gone on, but he didn’t want to leave me alone. We have to watch him now, since he knows I’m safe.”

“You both need medical care.”

Tears were standing in McCoy‘s eyes as McCoy pulled away from Kirk. “But he’s worse! See to him.”

“I will.”

McCoy nodded quickly as he wiped at his eyes. “Don’t let Spock catch on to what happened to me just now,” he whispered. “It’s just kinda got to me, that’s all.”

“I won’t. Bones, I might not make it myself. It still doesn‘t seem real.“

McCoy nodded in understanding. Then, when he could talk again, he asked his question from a few minutes earlier, “How did you manage to get to us? Finding us was one thing, getting to us was probably another, I suppose.” And he sounded remarkably composed, just how he wanted to sound for Spock’s benefit.

“It was. We finally got lucky. We’d tried about everything else, so we decided to recreate what happened to the Aquinas. We brought the Enterprise back to where you disappeared and went through the warp ourselves with another shuttle.”

“You’re here on a shuttle?! You’ll be here forever now! I hope you like lichen soup.”

Kirk frowned. “Lichen soup?”

“It’s a dietary mainstay around here, along with some protein sources that you shouldn‘t question too closely. But you‘ll learn to love anything on the menu. Now that you’re going to be our newest settlers and all.”

“No, we won‘t be” Kirk said with a smile. “That’s why Scotty is here. He’ll get us back to the Enterprise. He‘s got a few more electronics at his disposal than you guys did. And we have communications with the Enterprise. That‘s the first thing we made certain of when we got here. But it was the old-fashioned tracking device on the Aquinas that led us here. Otherwise, I don‘t know if we‘d ever found you.”

“The Enterprise,“ McCoy mumbled. He felt tears bite at his eyelids. “You don’t know what it was like to see the Enterprise disappear in front of us, Jim.”

“Yes, I do. We couldn’t find the Aquinas back. I‘d lost you both. That wasn’t acceptable. I couldn‘t rest until I‘d found you,” Kirk said softly.

“Except for our injuries, we probably had an easier time of it here than you did out hunting for us.”

“It looks like you had all the comforts of home here,” Kirk said in appreciation as he looked around at their camp.

“The planet provided.”

“But it took special eyes to see the potential. You did well, Bones.”

“It was home, Jim. And as far as we knew, the last one we would ever know. I’ll never forget it and what it did for us. It kept us alive.”

“You kept each other alive,” Kirk corrected.

McCoy nodded quickly.

Kirk pulled a flask from his pocket. It was the ornate silver-worked one that McCoy had given him once for Christmas.

“I brought you a drink, Bones. Kentucky bourbon. I know that it’s been awhile.”

McCoy looked with interest at the intricate designs on the flask. “Maybe later, Jim. I don’t have a particular need for it now.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“Well, I couldn’t get any whiskey, of course. Then, when I was caring for Spock and providing us both with food, the strangest thing happened. Our survival depended on me. I realized how much that I was needed.”

“You’ve always been needed, Bones.”

“But I didn’t feel necessary, anymore. I could have been replaced on the Enterprise. I had already been replaced in the life of my daughter. But, here, I was the only who could keep us alive, or Spock and I would have died. I made a living for us out of practically nothing. I had to prove to myself that I could do that. I feel good about myself, Jim. I had gotten so bogged down with my personal problems that I couldn’t get ahead of them. They just kept getting worse. Being stranded here put all of those problems on hold. Now, I think that I can deal with them without feeling so overwhelmed.”

“So, being stranded here was good in that way for you, wasn’t it?”

“It was good in a lot of ways, Jim. It was a gift, but I didn’t recognize it at first.”

“I think that a lot of us are guilty about not recognizing gifts that come to us.”

“It helps if you can’t do a whole lot about receiving them,” McCoy said with a sad smile.

Kirk gave him a tolerant look back. “Yeah, you didn’t have much choice.”

“I guess we always have a choice. Luckily, I finally got smart.”

McCoy took one quick look back at their camp under the overhang. No more gathering blueberries from his garden. No more going into the cave after water. No more long evenings of talking quietly with Spock. Or not talking, but both being contented with the quiet and each other’s company.

No more sleeping contently in each other’s arms.

“You will miss it, won’t you?” Kirk asked softly.

“It was our lives for awhile. And now we‘ll go back to our other lives and hope we remember the lessons we learned here,” McCoy said simply, then turned away with Kirk to follow Spock’s stretcher in the distance.

 

“I’d like for Spock and me to leave on the Aquinas, Jim,” McCoy said as they stood outside the two shuttles.

“That’s understandable. Put Spock‘s stretcher on the ship they came in on,” Kirk told the red shirts. “She needs that honor to be flown out with her original crew on board.” He looked with pride at McCoy. “So do they.”

They strapped Spock into a seat and McCoy sat behind him. 

“Are you doing okay, Spock?” McCoy asked in his ear.

“Yes, Doctor.”

But McCoy could see Spock shaking. McCoy did not know if it was from relief to be leaving the alien planet or from weakness of being moved so far or from joy of going to the Enterprise. Perhaps it was merely that whatever he was doing, he would not be alone. McCoy was with him.

McCoy leaned forward. “Look, Spock,” McCoy said softly as the Aquinas took off from the surface of the planet. “We’re leaving Paradise behind.”

“But we are taking the idea of Paradise with us. We will never lose that, as long as we keep it alive.”

McCoy gripped Spock‘s shoulder hard. Now he understood that Spock’s shaking was an outward sign of the emotional drain on him. That was the only way that Spock could allow himself to show what he was nonetheless feeling. 

McCoy needed to let Spock know that he was still with him. He leaned forward as far as he could with the seatbelt pulling on him, then slid his arms across Spock’s chest as far as he was able. McCoy was holding Spock in his arms again.

Spock sucked his breath in sharply through his mouth. He was ecstatic to be going back to the Enterprise where he could be treated and where his life was, but he had been touched by his stay on this barren world, too. He had known a peace there which he’d never known before, and he had forced into a great relationship with a new friend. No wonder he was torn by emotion.

But McCoy understood because he was experiencing the same conflicting feelings. He waited to leave, but he wanted to stay, also. For this had indeed been Paradise for the two of them.

Across from them, Kirk understood that his two friends had found something together that he could never share. Kirk felt strangely sad and alone, even though he had his friends together again at long last. As much as he’d always wanted them to be closer to each other, he had never realized until now that that might mean to the exclusive of everyone else, including himself. They had found something together on that unknown planet, and Jim Kirk knew that he had to respect that.

He couldn’t believe how protective McCoy was of Spock when before McCoy could not stand to have the alien being anywhere near him. But that’s what happens when you think that you’re the only two people in your particular universe. It just seemed strange, though, to see McCoy so protective.

 

And back on the Enterprise, McCoy was no better. The fact that he was home didn’t phase him. He simply wanted to direct all of Spock’s treatment, and he thought that no one else could do it.

“You need rest yourself, Bones.”

“I’m a little underweight and I need exercise. Heaven knows I got enough rest on that planet! No, the best thing for me is work! I wouldn’t be able to rest, anyway, worrying that Spock wasn’t getting adequate care.”

“Spock is coming along nicely. He’s getting more than adequate care. He’s all patched up. All he needs is more rest.” Rest from McCoy’s constant hovering, for starters. But Kirk didn’t dare mention that very real fact, or he would be the next victim of McCoy’s acerbic wrath.

“Give him some space, Bones,” Kirk said a little more assertively. “A little away time might be good for the both of you.” Kirk couldn’t believe that he’d just said that, especially since he’d recently said exactly the opposite of that to McCoy not too long ago.

“But, Jim, you know he can’t sleep unless I’m right there.”

“I know,” Kirk answered. “But can’t you give it a rest at night? Go to your own quarters occasionally?”

“I can’t sleep in my own bed. I tried, but it didn’t work. I can’t sleep without him nearby. I have to know that he’s safe. And warm. So I went back to sickbay and curled up on another biobed near Spock.”

“Bones. You weren’t found on a nearby biobed. You were found by your own staff on the same biobed with Spock, curled up in each other’s arms and draped over each other like two happy puppies from the same litter. They could barely see where one of you stopped and the other one started. I believe that’s the way that Christine Chapel described it, and she was correct. And if she hadn’t described it so well, the pictures proved it.”

“Some shutterbug needed to be stopped,” McCoy mumbled.

“Why? It was sweet.”

“I’ll never have any control in sickbay after that. Everyone will think that I’m cuddly and cute.”

“But you are cuddly and cute, Bones! Well, at least with Spock.”

“That’s better.”

"Bones, now that things are calming down for both of you, do you believe that you two won't be so reliant on each other?"

"We might, but I'm not seeing it. We virtually meant life and death for each other. That would be awfully difficult to walk away from."

"But can you see it changing any?"

"The surface might change, but underneath it will remain the same. That's rock solid."

It was true. Spock and McCoy had developed some sort of interdependence on each other. Perhaps, in time, the effect would lessen, but right now, they seemed to be the happiest in each other’s company. And in each other’s arms at night.

Jim Kirk could only blame himself. He had wanted McCoy and Spock to get better acquainted and spend more time together. Well, that they got done. Now, the scales had tipped the other way, and they were inseparable. Kirk supposed he shouldn’t have wished so hard for what he wanted. For now he had gotten it. In spades.

 

“Spock, you’re feeling better?” Kirk asked as he visited Sickbay.

“Yes, Captain, I believe that I am,” Spock answered.

“You and, ah, Dr. McCoy seem to be good friends now.”

“Yes, Captain, I believe that we are.”

Kirk leaned closer. “Are you prepared to accept what that means?”

Spock frowned. “Captain?”

“McCoy has replaced alcohol with you. Is that alright?”

“Yes, Captain. I believe that I am able to help him face the evils of drink. I wanted to help him before we were stranded, but he would not allow it.”

“You won’t, ah, lose interest, so that he goes back to drink?”

“He did not lose interest in me, Captain.”

“You shouldn’t carry gratitude that far.”

“It is more than gratitude, Captain. And you need not worry. I am not going anywhere. Not unless he sends me away.” Spock looked determined. “And even then, I may not go.”

"What happens when you stop being afraid for each other?"

"I am certain that we will feel for each other in times of safety what we learned to feel during times of stress."

“I’m beginning to see that I was worried needlessly. Keep improving, Mr. Spock, and soon you will be back on the bridge of the Enterprise.”

“That will make me most happy, Captain, and your concern will help speed my recovery, I am certain.”

 

So that’s how they left it. And the crowded conditions on the biobed seemed to agree with Spock, because he was not in sickbay very long. Nobody knew of Spock’s and McCoy’s sleeping arrangements after that, but McCoy was occasionally seen sneaking out of Spock’s quarters in the early hours of the morning. 

But nobody had the nerve to mention it to McCoy for fear of being burned alive by McCoy’s blistering retort. Nothing would be left of the careless questioner, except charred bones and a surprised look on the face of the skeleton.


	10. Chapter 10

“Must you always contradict everything I say?!” McCoy demanded of Spock as they sat in Jim Kirk‘s quarters. It was months later and their adventure on ‘Paradise’ was slowly fading, but not their companionship.

“Say something that I consider to be a worthwhile truth, and then I will most heartily agree with you, Doctor,” Spock said smugly.

“’Mr. Spock is always going to contradict me!’ There!“ McCoy crowed with pride. “You can‘t disagree with that!”

“Now, Doctor. I cannot agree with any statement that has the word ‘always’ in it. You should remember that from your debate class lessons.”

“I’ve got it! ’Mr. Spock is always a smart ass!’” McCoy challenged. “There!”

“There is that pesky ‘always’ word again. And there are times that you might contradict yourself and say that I am a dumb ass.”

“Well, both terms mean the same things, even though they sound like opposites!”

“Highly illogical, but I will agree with that statement.”

“You agree? You agree?! Well, stop the presses and yell the news from the highest steeple in town! Mr. Spock agrees with me! Everything has turned around and the world is upside down! Next, the sun will rise in the east and set in the west!”

“But on many planets that statement is true, Doctor.”

“Do you guys ever get tired of that?” Jim Kirk wondered aloud.

“Tired of what?” McCoy asked in true puzzlement. “Spock, do you know what he’s talking about?”

“I believe that he is referring to our discussion as being nothing more than an argument between us.”

“I don’t know where he’d come up with an idea like that,” McCoy rebuked with a frown. “Jim, we’re just discussing stuff.”

“Well, your ‘discussion’ is giving me a headache. Back off for awhile, will you?”

“Sorry.”

“You know, you guys are missing your true callings.”

“Oh? And what do you think our true callings should be?” McCoy asked with interest. He loved games, and Kirk had just invented a new one.

“Well, you’d make first rate torture devices. I think that forcing prisoners to listen to your bickering would be more effective than the Chinese water torture. But then the Federation might outlaw it as being too brutal. Romulans might even balk about using it. They‘d demand more humane treatment for even their deadliest enemies.”

“Ha! Ha! You’re a real comedian today, Jim. Keep that up and Spock here will get all huffy. He just might raise an eyebrow so high that it well might disappear clear into his hairline, never to be seen again. And wouldn’t he look odd then! He’d have to walk around with his head tilted on the other side just so his face would look balanced. There‘d be rumors, of course. Someone on the crew might think that they’ve spotted the eyebrow cautiously peeking out of all that hairy foliage. But it proved just to be a shadow or maybe even a housefly that had been unfortunately caught by the eyebrow, like the eyebrow was some sort of black hole or something.”

“Doctor, your regard for my errant eyebrow is heartening, to say the least. But please do not concern yourself unduly about it.”

“I know, Bones. Spock could draw an eyebrow onto his forehead with an eyebrow pencil,” Kirk offered. “If nineteen-thirties actresses in American films could build a career around hand drawn eyebrows, Spock could take advantage of their knowledge.”

“Please, Captain, Dr. McCoy needs no help in being snide. Do not place yourself on his level.”

“You know, I’m going to miss hearing all of these intellectual discussions about such philosophical topics from you two guys, but it’s time again for shore leave. So, what is it this time? Earth for McCoy? Or a doctor’s convention on Mars? Vulcan for Spock? Or a diplomatic mission served with your father?”

McCoy and Spock glanced at each other and said as one, “Paradise!”

“Back to that planet where you two were stranded?! Where you almost died, if you hadn‘t been rescued in time?! You really want to go back there?!”

“Well, yeah. Now that we’ve figured how to get there from any place in the universe, we can just get in the shuttle and snap ourselves there anytime or from wherever we want. It could revolutionize space travel, if the only place you want to go to is our planet paradise.” McCoy looked from one to the other, knowing he had their full attention. “I’m thinking of calling the procedure ‘Spock’s Snap.’”

Kirk groaned. “You really had to work to set that one up, didn’t you, and I fell for it. But you can get to ‘Paradise’ easier now, and you can relive the experience of living simply again. Ah! the rustic life!”

“Yeah, but this time, I want a few more amenities along. A replicator, for one thing, so we can have a little more variety to our diets. And a bone knitter, in case the Vulcan stubs his toe or hurts his precious little pinkie. And tissues to dry his tears when he gets a splinter. And a tweezers to remove that splinter before he shrinks his shirt from crying.”

“Toilet paper,” Spock said, and Kirk knew that had to be the top of any sort of survival gear for Spock. “The cotton bolls from the cotton plant you found worked nicely, Doctor, but I do not want to have to go farming every time before I visit the latrine. I felt like one of your poor slaves in the Deep South before your American Civil War having to pick cotton.”

“Well, at least I found something for us to use! And for your information, that wasn’t cotton, but a form of milkweed. It attracted butterflies, besides being useful as a cleansing agent. We had a regular little butterfly farm.”

“I never saw any butterflies.”

“Be happy! They were pesky little critters! And some of them were real scrappers! I really had to fight them!”

“For what?”

“For their lives! They were a valuable source of protein.”

“Leonard. Are you saying that I ate a butterfly?!”

“No, I am not saying that you ate a butterfly!” McCoy mocked in a singsong voice that made Kirk grin, even though he knew he was just encouraging McCoy.

“Good,” Spock said with a deep sigh of obvious relief. “I would not want to deprive the universe of a form of such exquisite beauty as a butterfly. You probably aggravated them. That is why they were aggressive and why you did not appreciate them.”

“You do know, don’t you, that moths on the whole are prettier than butterflies?”

“That is not the point. Eating grubs was one thing. They are ugly. They just lie there, squirming. But butterflies! They are beautiful. They flit about and dive and hover and spread joy with their erratic flight patterns. I would not like to think that I had consumed even one.”

“If you must know, it was probably closer to a hundred.”

Spock looked stunned. “Eh?”

“Well, I ate some of them, also! I needed protein, too, you know!”

“I am not contesting your need for protein. I am contesting your source of the protein.”

“I could find only so many grubs! And I figured you might recognize a sage mouse carcass. They are scrawny with little meat on their fragile bones. I felt sorry for them. They had a hard enough life without me trying to kill them, so you got butterflies occasionally.”

“You said that I did not eat a butterfly!”

“And you didn’t! You ate butterflies! Butterfly with an ‘s’ on the end of it! More than one! A lot more than one!” McCoy calmed. “And I told you that they were bugs with wings. Remember them?! Bugs with wings?!”

Spock looked stunned again. “I remember the bugs with wings. They were tasty. The wings were crunchy.” He looked horrified. “I ate a creature created by a god!”

“That god will forgive you. Besides, all of the creatures were created by a god, somewhere all the line, not just the beautiful ones. Even those loathsome slugs were beloved by some god, although I don‘t know how. It must’ve been a desperate god, or one that was easily pleased. They say mothers are that way. They love the ugly, naughty children as well as the beautiful angels that they bear. Sometimes mothers love the toads more, because they need the loving more.“

“But, butterflies!“

“Don‘t worry. You‘re forgiven.”

“But can I forgive myself?”

“Spock, you lived. I figured that tipped the scales back to a normal balance in the universe. It’s your business to survive in the universe, however you do it. Or whomever you have to eat.”

“But not at the loss of the butterflies!”

“There’s still butterflies on Paradise! We didn’t mow a path through their society! There was more left than old people and infants! We left breeding pairs! You’ll see! The sky will be filled with those butterflies just looking like dinner on the wing! And you shouldn’t be so judgmental! I would’ve liked for you to try to figure out what we were going to eat! There wasn’t exactly a supermarket on every corner begging for my business, you know!”

“I would not have fed you butterflies,” Spock grumbled with crossed arms. “Grubs, maybe. But not butterflies.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! Maybe you should reconsider shore leave destinations,” Kirk interjected. “Maybe you should go separate directions. Too much togetherness can be a bad thing. Take a little vacation from each other.”

McCoy and Spock stared at Kirk as if three more eyes had suddenly appeared on his forehead.

“Or, maybe not,” Kirk mumbled.

“I’m just saying,” McCoy continued as if Kirk had never spoken. “I didn’t have too easy of a job of gathering food for us! This time, you try to feed us!”

“I will,” Spock assured him. “I will become a farmer. I will put ample foodstuffs on our table. Our harvest table will groan with the bounty I will provide.”

“You will make the desert bloom, I suppose,” McCoy challenged.

“Gentlemen, may I remind you that you will be gone for only a month? That will not be sufficient time to make a desert bloom. You might get a crop of radishes in, but that would be about it.”

“The French ate radishes for breakfast,” Spock supplied.

“Yeah, but you’d want more vegetables than that, but you won’t have the time.”

“Thank you, Captain Kirk,” McCoy said. “Thanks for making my point.”

“And now the Earthlings are ganging up on the alien again.”

“It isn’t like that at all, Spock!” Kirk retaliated, realizing that he was willingly let himself get sucked into their silly fight. “Just go. Have a good time. Come back refreshed. Just don’t kill each other. That would put a bad taint on your ‘Paradise.’” 

“And this time, I want to be waited on, hand and foot, like I did the Vulcan!” McCoy said with a little edge to his voice.

“Well, now, gentlemen, you’ll have to work all of that out on your own. I suppose you’ll want those same two solar blankets that you had last time. You seemed to have developed quite a fondness for them.”

“Well, they’ll go again with us, it’s true, Jim. But we want sleeping bags this time, too. The Vulcan gets too cold, otherwise.”

“You know, they do have sleeping bags that you can zip up so that they form one double bag, don’t you?” Kirk teased. “That way, you can cuddle easier.”

“Oh, we’d planned on that,” McCoy answered. “And if we plan it just right, we won’t need pajamas.” Then McCoy started laughing. “Told you, Spock! Did you see Jim’s eyes bug out when I mentioned the lack of pajamas?!”

“So, you guys were teasing me all along?” Kirk wanted to know.

“Well, we might be,” McCoy said, doing some teasing of his own. “And, then again, we might be dead serious.”

“Spock, what do you say about all of this? Is Bones pulling my leg?”

“Well, Captain, he did pull mine once. Both of them, in fact. And it took me awhile to recover from it.”

“Yeah, but you two guys are together, aren‘t you?! You know, sleeping in one bed, and all that implies?”

McCoy and Spock traded looks.

“Somebody has to keep the frosty ass of the Vulcan’s warm.”

“Come on, guys! Are you, or aren’t you in a romantic relationship with each other?!”

“We’ll let you know when we get back from shore leave. It depends a whole lot on whether I let him live, or not.”

“Until then, Captain, if anybody wants to know, the good doctor and I will be in Paradise.” Then he traded a cryptic smile with McCoy. “Probably in one sleeping bag.”

“Damn it!” Kirk muttered. “I think I liked you guys better when you hated each other! Now you‘re like a couple of Junior High boys tormenting their teacher!”

“Oh, I don’t know if we still like each other all that much, Jim, but we keep each other honest. I think that we’ve been able to figure out a better way to deal with our frustrations with each other.”

“Meaning, what I think you’re meaning?” Kirk asked hopefully and fell into their trap.

“We’re taking a Chinese checker board with us, Jim. We’ll play a board game. I don’t know what your solution could’ve possibly been,” McCoy answered innocently.

“You’re driving me crazy! And now, you’re both on the same side!”

“Keep the home fires burning until we get back, kid, “ McCoy said with a smile and a wink.” Come on, Spock, the Aquinas is waiting.”

“The Aquinas?!” Kirk called after them. “Your honeymoon express, I take it?!”

“Oh, Jim Kirk, you do amuse us,” Spock said with a look of humor flashing in his dark eyes.

Kirk wanted to throttle the both of them! No, he wanted to hug them, he realized with a soft smile upon reconsideration. Hug them, and wish them luck. Everything else, they seemed to already have.

Spock headed out the door and McCoy was taking a step to follow him when Kirk snagged McCoy’s arm.

“Bones! This is just what I wanted for Spock! You’re doing great, bringing him out of his shell and all!”

“I’m not doing it for the Vulcan!” McCoy snapped. “I’m a doctor, not a social director! Don‘t you know that everybody wants to know what‘s in it for them?! Well, I‘m no better than anyone else! I‘m a greedy, little bastard! If you didn‘t already know that, it‘s a good time to learn it!”

Kirk winked. “I think you’re a winner in all of this, despite your bluster. I think you kinda like our little pointed-eared buddy!”

“Well, think what you want, Captain Kirk! Me, I’ve gotta make sure the alien doesn’t walk into a bulkhead or something equally stupid while he’s got his head in the clouds thinking about some philosophical proposition! Damn idiot probably won’t be watching where he’s going! Hard telling where he‘d wind up if I wasn‘t herding him around!” McCoy said as he hurried after Spock.

Yeah, and Spock thinks he’s your watch dog, Kirk thought with a grin. Take care of each other, guys, and be careful of full-body sunburn. Going to sleep naked outside will do that! Kirk smirked. Of course, you’ll get a helluva crisscross tan with your arms and legs all over each other. But I expect that harmonious tan lines won’t be your priority.

Outside Kirk’s quarters, Spock was waiting for McCoy. “You did not tell him the stakes of our Chinese checkers games, did you? What the victor gets as his reward?”

“What? The choice of being on the top or the bottom? There’s things that even Jimmy Kirk doesn’t need to know, Mr. Spock.”

“I know, Leonard. Just be sure that you packed enough lubricant.”

“It’s right beside your toilet paper, so that delicate rear end of yours will be well taken care of. And here I thought that was going to be my job.”

“It will be, Leonard. Just as I will be watching yours.”

“I hope you’ll be doing more than watching, Vulcan,” McCoy muttered as they approached the Aquinas. “Much more.”

“I will be making that my priority, Leonard. On that, you can rely.”

“I just wish we would’ve figured all of this out back on Paradise, instead of waiting until we were back in your quarters here.”

“On Paradise, that was not the time for anything but survival and reassurance, Leonard. It was not until we got back to my quarters that we discovered that cuddling could lead to more than just survival and reassurance,” Spock said as they stopped by the door of the Aquinas. “We will have time now and the freedom to make all sorts of discoveries about ourselves and each other.” Spock arched an eyebrow. “And I intend to do a lot of exploring.”

“Now who’s making all kinds of grandiose promises?!”

“I do not promise, Leonard.” The eyebrow arched even higher. “I deliver.”

“Yeah, yeah,” McCoy muttered as he took a step into the Aquinas. He hoped that Spock didn‘t realize the tingle he‘d caused McCoy here where they couldn‘t do anything about it. Damn Vulcan tease! McCoy would make him pay for that!

“Watch your step, Leonard,” Spock cautioned as he grabbed McCoy‘s arm.

McCoy let him get by with that. He liked it when Spock was being protective. “Maybe I should fly this buggy this time, Spock. Last time, your landing wasn’t so smooth.”

“If you start being bossy, I will get out and walk.”

“Be my guest! A little lack of oxygen out in deep space should clear your head of stupidity! Although I don’t know if even that would solve the problem,” McCoy muttered. “You’re pretty thick-headed when you want to be.”

“That is only because I have such an excellent example in you,” Spock answered magnanimously.

“Me?! Well, let me tell you--”

The hatch of the Aquinas whooshed shut, sealing them inside their honeymoon shuttle. It was understood, though, that the arguing was continuing between them, if the animated faces through the shuttles‘ windows were any indication.

McCoy had a grumpy look on his face and was flinging his arms every which way, and a lip reader would be blushing at what was being said.

“I should leave you here and let Kirk take care of you for awhile! That’d teach that know-it-all captain a thing or two about--”

“Leonard.”

“Then maybe he’d realize what I’ve been going through--”

“Leonard.”

“Don’t know why I mess with you in the first place!”

“Hey, you guys in that shuttle wanna wind that up anytime soon? Or do you wanna spend your shore leave in the shuttle while it’s still in the belly of the Enterprise?”

“Damn smart ass!” McCoy muttered.

“The man does have a point, Leonard. We will miss our window of opportunity.”

“I’ll show you our window of opportunity.”

“No, Leonard, I will show you.”

The shuttle got quiet.

“Aquinas? Are you still with us? It got awfully quiet over there. Did you kill each other, and we need to come over and mop up blood and remove bodies?”

“We are still here, Enterprise. Dr. McCoy needed reassurance for our journey. He is nervous after our launch from the Portus.”

Laughter came over the radio. “Reassurance?! It sounded more like kissing to us! Kinda like cows walking through a mud hole! We liked it when Spock ‘breathed‘ your name, Doc!”

Spock looked pleased with himself, but McCoy was miffed.

“Damn Vulcan! You have to reveal all of our secrets, don’t you?!”

Spock’s one eyebrow went up, and he got a crafty look on his face. “Not ALL of our secrets, Leonard. For awhile, I intend for only Paradise to know too much about us. Now, sit down and let me fasten your seat belt. I intend to keep you safe.” Spock’s eyes twinkled. “From everything, that is, except myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, promises,” McCoy grumbled. “I’ll be the best judge of that.”

“I certainly hope so, Leonard. Oh, and I do not merely promise. As I said before, I deliver.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be the best judge of that, too,” McCoy growled, but a secret smile was tugging at his lips as he stole a glance at his Vulcan bringing the Aquinas to life with his skilled hands.

Those Vulcan hands had more than one skill, McCoy thought with pleasure. And McCoy intended to get his fair share, and more, of their ministrations.

 

The planet they’d named ‘Paradise’ better be prepared, because its founders were headed its way. And nothing would ever be the same in ‘Paradise’ again.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
